


letting go and having fun: a collection

by ninata



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, ロード・エルメロイⅡ世の事件簿 - 三田誠 | Lord El-Melloi II Case Files - Sanda Makoto
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), A new tag i just invented. youre welcome!, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Cum Eating, Emotional Constipation, Finger Sucking, First Time, Hand Jobs, High Sex, Low Bondage, M/M, Magic Crest-play, Moving On, Multiple Orgasms, Novel Spoilers, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poetry, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Resolved Romantic Tension, Rimming, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Tag As I Go, gray and reines are girlfriends here but i'm not throwing this monstrosity into their tag.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: A series of compliant/non-compliant with each other one shots about Melvin and Waver. (will contain spoilers)
Relationships: Iskandar | Rider/Waver Velvet (past), Waver Velvet/Melvin Waynez
Comments: 37
Kudos: 50





	1. go hungry

**Author's Note:**

> whew!  
> was continuously told to start a series/chaptered piece for all my melwav. it's possibly, all gonna be smut? who knows! let's embark on this journey...together. no organization, but there should be bits in each fic to denote when it takes place..uhhh...wahoo! lets go

"Are you...soliciting me?" Waver asked, his eyes narrowing.

"You make it sound so suspicious, Waver!" Melvin raised his hands in defense. "It's not like I'm buying the favor."

"...If you were offering money, I'd probably consider it." Waver crossed his arms.

"Really?" Incredulously. "Name your price!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking! You're too gullible sometimes!"

"Ah, well...if it's no, then it was worth a shot."

Their conversations were normally like this, in one way or another.

Waver and Melvin had known each other for almost six years. Former classmates. After meeting again in Iraq, Melvin had declared, brimming with enthusiasm, that he and Waver were going to be best friends. But _why?_ What was the catch, here? Was this the catch? Was the reason Melvin Weins was so interested in him because he was looking for sex?

The idea had crossed his mind more than a few times. It was the same situation his grandmother had gotten herself into. Those in positions of power were always leering down at those less fortunate, wanting to get in with them and rub their hands all over them. That was just how it worked. Waver was suspicious of the guy, with his blood so blue it was coming out of his lips, made sick by his pure bloodline. He felt a little bad for him. But suspicious. Why the hell was Melvin always hanging around him, listening to him ramble, with that weird look on his face? Why did he want to be so close? Why did he invite him to stay with him at the Weins mansion when he had nowhere else to turn to?

Yes, Melvin, his “best friend”...had just asked to have sex with him. 

"...You weren't being serious, were you?" Waver asked later, tapping his nail on the corner of the page of the book he was reading.

"Oh? About what?"

"You know...having…"

"Well, you would always complain about there being no men your type around campus."

"Quiet down!" Waver urged, his cheeks starting to heat up.

"And it's completely uncommon for mages to talk about that kind of thing...Well, I guess that's why you're so interesting, Waver. This might be our chance, you know?"

"Chance…" He repeated.

"Who knows if we'll have another? Think about it. Mages are the type that stay shut up about everything for the rest of their lives. No one marries for love, and as for me...well! I may not even be alive tomorrow."

An uncomfortable thing to admit, but he was right. Melvin's health was awful, and precariously kept in line by expensive remedies and magecraft. Melvin was normally surrounded by girls, and had enthusiastically expressed enjoying their company in...varying ways, but…

Maybe Waver felt a little bad. That was something they kind of shared. Not getting to live life to the fullest.

Yeah, they were alike, even if they were different. Waver resented that a little. Why? He didn't know. But he had always told himself not to think too hard about it.

...Maybe Waver had been too honest around Melvin, and now he'd have to pay for it. But could he help it? It wasn't like anyone else talked to him. They were basically the only two openly gay people he knew of. So it was natural…to fuck each other?! Oh, way to give into every stereotype imaginable, Waver!

But was it...well, was it, you know...so awful?

Waver's head was starting to spin. He got like this, sometimes. Once he got an unreasonable idea in his head, he had to go put it into motion in a feverish state. Too impulsive, too ambitious, always getting in over his head, selfish and…

...Melvin was giving him a look that made his stomach hurt. He chose not to think about it deeply.

"Fine. You're on." Waver said, crossing his arms. 

"Aha! I knew you'd do it!" Melvin grabbed his hand, squeezing it. Waver tensed at the motion, cursing how something he was so used to now took a different meaning. Melvin's veins were blue against his paperwhite skin, knuckles knobby and pink. He was looking at them in a different light, now, swallowing nervously, in a way he had promised himself he wouldn't. "Just think of it as a favor to you!" Melvin pulled them away, laughing lightly. "You hate being a virgin."

"T-Thanks, I think?" Waver put his hand to his forehead, his heavy eyebrows knitting. Melvin would probably lord this over him for the rest of his life, but…

Well, he didn't want to back out. Melvin was right about him, after all. Something to cement his identity in, something to make him feel like less of a loser…

"Meet me in my room, after work." Melvin's smile took on that sinister tone again. Waver nodded, looking around furtively to see if anyone had overheard them. Nobody seemed interested.

He mulled it over as he ate his dinner.

...This wasn't about Melvin liking him, he assured himself. This wasn't some kind of confession of feelings. After all, Melvin was interested in all manner of odd things, and was too fickle to really count interest as anything genuine. It was just another game to him. It was just...some...weird mage thing. Yeah, Melvin was using Waver for some weird purpose more than Waver was using him…

...Was his first time really going to be for some weird competitive gesture?

The thing about Waver was that Waver cared a lot more than he let on. The idea of having sex with someone who he held no feelings for felt cheap, but in the end, Waver was too desperate to try it to hold some kind of moral standard. Melvin wasn't that bad, in the end— a bit of a douchebag, but he was a lot kinder than he seemed. He lent him money, and he covered meals every now and then. Was this a sick way of repaying the debt? Maybe a little! Admittedly, this was one of the more stupid things Waver had done.

But what would Rider have wanted? The question of Rider in all this burns deep in the pit of his heart. It isn’t him, which is what Waver had hoped for. He was still in love with him, but he couldn’t take jerking off locked in Melvin’s bathroom any longer. Would Rider have approved?

He wants to bury that feeling. He wants to do something stupid, passionately stupid, wants to get rid of these nightmares if only for one night. 

As time slowly passed from their last conversation, the burden of his virginity seemed to press upon him. Surely, once Waver passed this hurdle, he’d start bringing success to the name Velvet. Everything he had sold off would be worth it. His entire life would be fixed if he just wasn't a virgin anymore! Nobody would laugh at him ever again! And surely, that'd invite more suitors in, and he'd never be lonely ever again! And he'd somehow gain more magic circuits, and a steady basis of income, and self confidence and broader shoulders and 30 centimeters and…

...A joke. Waver Velvet was a joke. His life was bleaker and bleaker every day, and nothing felt like it was going to be worth it. He had nothing to look forward to, he didn't even have a home to return to, and the world he dreamed of where a mixed up, half-this half-that person could be accepted didn't end up existing. Just like his mother had warned him. Stupid old hag wouldn't stop nagging him even after she died…

Moreover, that painful thing that had happened two years ago wasn’t fading from him anytime soon. When he had finally accepted death, he was told to live. When he had finally fallen in love, that was cruelly ripped from him. He was left with a legacy to carry on, and that was all.

As the sunlight faded deep into darkness, stars sparse in a light polluted sky, Waver carefully made his way up the stairs of the mansion Melvin called home. The size of the place just made it seem lonely; a hoarder’s hellhole, but still devoid of people. ...All the money that went into it, though, still got on his nerves. Right, that was the attitude to be having going into this— pissed off, resentful towards the guy who was supposedly doing him a favor. Just like always, Waver was being ungrateful and pushy.

"Gosh, you look like you're in a bad mood. I thought you'd actually relax a little bit…" Melvin tapped his cheek with his finger. "Maybe I need to rethink my approach…"

"Just lay off already...Look, this isn't some elaborate prank, is it?"

"Whyever would you think that, Waver?"

"I don't know! You're always up to something." Waver rubbed his shoulder. "This is your last chance to call this off."

"I'm the one who should be saying that, shouldn't I?"

They stared at each other for a few moments.

"How about you come with me?" Melvin smiled smilingly. Waver's face, yet again, grew warm, a sweat creeping in around his body.

As Melvin took his time down the long hallway towards the room at the end, Waver followed. He was growing a little too single-minded, his hands patting at his pockets, casting furtive glances at Melvin's body as he ambled in front of him.

Just a little bit shorter than him, his hair shaved close at the bottom to the nape of his neck. An almost blond silver color. All his hair had to be that color, right?

...Why was he suddenly thinking about this!? He had to calm down! Right. Don't think about his pubes. Ah, hell. He had told himself not to think about Melvin like this for years. Don't lust after Melvin of all people. Just because he was kind of half-nice, and he paid attention to Waver, that does _not_ mean it's the season to catch feelings. 

Melvin’s bedroom was drab, stuffed with odd trinkets and equipment for tuning. Waver recalled with a bit of nostalgia the time he punched Melvin for bragging too hard about the money he had. The door closed behind them, and Melvin’s hand slid around Waver’s hips. Waver whirled on him immediately, taking a step back.

“I—!”

“Huh? Waver?”

“G-Give me— A second!”

Gripping his chest, Waver flushed red, eyes darting around before settling on Melvin. A simple, unassuming face. Handsome, too. Why did he have to be so handsome? He didn’t deserve those looks. His stupid playboy looks…

Waver adjusted his tie, swallowing. A smirk drew across Melvin’s pale cheeks, and Waver, steaming, had had enough of that.

That smile cracked as soon as Waver got him against the door, but took a sunnier quality as soon as Waver blinked. Melvin cast a glance at Waver’s hand beside his head on the woodwork, then back at Waver’s anxious expression. As if the planets aligned, they both leaned in simultaneously, and Waver experienced something he hadn’t felt before.

Melvin’s lips on his, a shock of heat and a painful twinge in his chest. Like a space heater had been turned on in Waver’s stomach. Melvin’s mouth opened just a tad, then his tongue ran over Waver’s lip. He shuddered, unused to all of it. Unused to Melvin’s hands on his chest and shoulder, delicately keeping him from unraveling. It was like he knew Waver too well, knew where to hold him to keep him from collapse, an inexplicable feeling of closeness and familiarity that Waver despised.

When was the last time Waver had been hugged? Surely, only by Melvin. Always those hands on him, the only person who would link their arms together and throw himself around him. After Waver’s mother died, he hadn’t really had anyone to get affection from, had he? Even if that hag was a hardass, she was family. Rider, too, had his own handsiness to him, but Melvin…

 _Melvin._ Why was this so exciting to him? Their tongues twisted together, and Melvin hummed a soft noise as Waver put a hand on his waist. Waver felt frustrated— not enough, needed more. Wanted so much. Wanted to fuck him, wanted to push him down and—

“You can touch me wherever you’d like, you know!” Melvin exclaimed, shifting so that his arms were around Waver’s neck. “Don’t you want to?”

“Don’t...t-tell me what to do, idiot.” Waver’s eyes couldn’t find a place to focus. He licked his lips. Melvin tasted like metal and mint.

Melvin was dressed better for this than he was. His shirt was untucked, providing easy access to his body. Waver’s hand traveled underneath it, unsure where it was going—

“Haha, stop, stop! I’m ticklish—“

Waver hurriedly took his hand away.

“Oh? Don’t be shy! Here, I’ll show you.”

Melvin tucked some of Waver’s hair behind his ear. The tip of his fingers brushed Waver’s cheek, and his eyes snapped shut, gulping as he prepared for the worst. “Tilt your head up,” came a gentle direction, and Waver obliged, shivering as those long fingers gingerly took his tie and undid the knot, lips pressing against the skin of his throat.

Waver gasped, and could feel a smile form on those lips as he did so. Fucking Melvin! He wasn’t going to make any more noise from here on out, he told himself, as Melvin left kiss after kiss on his neck. His other hand, on Waver’s chest, trailed to his back, and further down…

Waver squeaked as Melvin took a handful of his ass. To his chagrin, Melvin laughed aloud, sweetly as ever, and said, “Hey, let’s go to the bed.”

Their lips barely parted in the few meters between the door and Melvin’s sheets. Waver shed his tie and shirt, and as he hit the pillows, Melvin finished unbuttoning his. A strange look took over his features, and Waver suddenly felt self conscious of his ribs poking out, the start of his body hair around and under his belly button.

“S-Stop staring…” He grumbled, and Melvin crawled closer, gaze shifting to Waver’s eyes. Waver recognized something shining deep in there, something he regretted entirely.

 _Ah,_ he thought. _I feel like that’s how I looked at Rider._

Their kisses continued. Waver shifted in his seat uneasily, his body catching up with him. He didn’t, couldn’t possibly love Melvin, but he wanted him. He wanted to feel him more, wanted to see him, compromised, underneath him, vulnerable, wanting—

Melvin straddled Waver's hips, and when they unconsciously rose in response to another wave of arousal, Melvin ground down in response. Waver broke away to gasp. It felt good. It was painful, painful because it wasn’t what he wanted, but it was good. This wasn’t Rider, but it still filled the empty spaces in Waver’s heart.

—Did that mean he loved Melvin after all?

They humped each other for a little longer before Melvin laughed, high and bright, and said breathily, "So? How do you want to lose your virginity?"

Waver's hands were on Melvin's hips, pulling him down as hard as he could against him. "Ah? Uh— Huh?! I...I— don't know—"

Melvin leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Do you want me inside you? Or do you want to be inside me? Which is it, Waver?"

Waver shuddered, letting his hands drop to Melvin's ass. Not much to grab, but he grabbed what was there, catching Melvin's lips in his own again, burning hot like a lit match. Like an electric stovetop. Pulsing, throbbing heat, and Melvin was smiling through it, like the temperature didn't bother him, like he enjoyed it, actually.

"I want to be inside you," Waver gasped. "So bad."

Melvin laughed again, though it sounded a little surprised this time, and he nipped at Waver's ear, then tugged his hair to get access to his neck. Waver let out a short whine, then slapped his hand over his mouth, his face boiling.

"See what happens when you're honest?" Melvin cooed, leaning forward on his knees, tugging Waver's pants down. Next was his underwear, and Waver exhaled deeply, his brow furrowing hard, eagerly repeating the gesture on Melvin—

—And it was just as fair as the hairs on his head, thank you. Melvin was half hard, flushed red to the tip, and it struck Waver that he was really, _really_ about to fuck him, and even though it hurt, it was good. It was good to be with him, good to fuck Melvin, who was now off to the side, fiddling with his nightstand's cabinets for lube and a condom.

"You know," Melvin discarded his pants and boxers, spreading lubricant over his palm, "I've never actually been with another man before."

Waver stared at the ceiling. "Lucky me. So I'm your first, too."

"So you are!"

Waver jolted at the feeling of latex as Melvin's cold hand pulled the condom on him. It was a strange feeling— he had touched himself for so long, feeling someone else's hand was altogether foreign. His eyes closed tightly, savoring the sensation of Melvin's thin fingers as he spread lube over him, where his hand tensed, slacked. It was a short moment, but Waver nearly came from that alone, dizzy and trying to catch his breath again, when Melvin took his hand away to duck back behind himself.

Waver watched hungrily, his eyes stuck on Melvin's body as his hand slid back between his legs, and found the courage, again, to push him by his shoulder, pinning him to the sheets. Melvin was laughing again, because he was always laughing, airily, like he wasn't expecting that. Waver licked his lips.

"Lift up your— yeah." He pushed Melvin's thighs open, then leaned forward on his hands, trying to find the right angle. Melvin had one hand on Waver's shoulder blade, and the other guiding him in. "Do I just—?"

"Just push your hips." Melvin's hand went back to Waver's ass, like that was somehow encouraging rather than embarrassing. "Go on! Don't worry about m—"

Waver entered him almost halfway with a thrust, and the both of them cringed. Melvin scrambled, clawing at Waver's back, with a few short _"Oh!"_ s, and Waver's hips shook with the effort of moving, carefully pushing in further.

Melvin's breath hitched, and he groaned, low and deep, which sounded so _strange_ coming from those lips, and Waver found he liked it, wanted to hear it more. He struggled to pull himself back, then thrust forward again, and Melvin, he could tell, was making a concentrated effort to relax.

"Melvin— are you okay?"

"I'm great!" He pushed his hand back through Waver's hair, smoothing it down his back. "Feels good when you pull back."

"Like this—"

Waver drew his hips back, and Melvin tugged on his dark locks, sending a shock down his spine. He felt it in his groin, letting out a plaintive moan.

"Go faster." Melvin smacked Waver's ass, grinning devilishly. "Come on, you're not going to get tired here, are you?"

Waver yelped, then bristled, sitting up on his calves. He grabbed onto Melvin's legs, glaring at him. "Oh, I'll show you, you little…"

With a touch of enhancement magecraft, Waver picked up the pace. Boy, did he pick up the pace. With Melvin's ass nearly in Waver's lap, the angle wasn't perfect, but Melvin squirmed and gasped just like Waver wanted him to. Their flesh clapped together as Waver thrusted, wholly undignified.

"Melvin—"

"Oh, fuck!"

"Oh, god, oh god,"

"Waver! Good, keep, ah! Keep going, fuck! Oh, that's good, fuck, good,"

Melvin was all smiles, chattering mindlessly as he jerked himself off, his cock bobbing in the air as Waver fucked him. Waver wanted badly to shut him up, but, despite himself, did enjoy the tone of his voice, hearing something familiar twisted with lust, heavy with it, frenzy dripping from each syllable as Waver groaned in reply.

Waver grabbed Melvin's wrists— anything for leverage— tugging him further onto himself in uncoordinated fervor. "Fuck! Waver! Fuck me, fuck me Waver! Oh, shit!"

Their bodies rutted against each other hard, Melvin giddy and babbling still. Waver kept yanking on his wrists, and Melvin hooked a leg up on Waver's shoulder, providing a better position. The bed creaked in agony. _Let the damn thing break, then!_ Waver thought spitefully. "Oh, _god!_ Waver! Oh fuck! Fuck me, holy shit! Right there!"

Hapless, unromantic fucking— Waver felt the usual blinding pleasure, warning him of his coming climax. "Melvin, I'm going to—"

"Do it on me!" Waver did a double take at him, and Melvin laughed, then let out another groan. "C'mon, please?"

No sooner than he pulled out and flung off the condom into the blankets had he come all over Melvin with a high pitched whine, his thighs trembling. Melvin's back arched, crooning in reply, "Waver!" and his own cumshot joined the mess on his chest. Melvin went limp against the comforter, and Waver flopped against his pillows, realizing how dry his mouth was, panting as he cooled down.

"...Not bad!" Melvin said, struggling to sit back up. He dabbed at some of the cum on his chest, sticking his finger in his mouth—

 _"Melvin!"_ Waver cried, flustered. Melvin looked at him innocently, tilting his head.

"Something wrong?"

Wrong? A painful throb. Waver reached forward, pulling him back into his lap with a bit of effort. Nervous, nervous. What was he doing? He ran his tongue against the cum on Melvin's chest, and Melvin rose up on his knees to give him a better shot at it, gasping an ecstatic "Oh!" as Waver's mouth worked against that pale, delicate skin—

The door creaked open. "Young master," came a voice, and Waver, who was caught between using Melvin to cover his own naked form and shoving him away, squawked in horror, "Would you like some tea for you and Master Velvet?"

Melvin, completely unperturbed, said "Oh, not yet! Maybe in a bit, right, Waver—?"

Waver, mortified, finally shoved Melvin away. He frantically grabbed for a pillow, covering himself with it.

"Rude!" Melvin stuck out his bottom lip. "Mariah, if you don't mind, I think you've upset my guest."

"Of course. My mistake." The door shut.

Waver glared daggers at Melvin. "I'm leaving." He said, setting the pillow aside and pawing for his underwear. Melvin's kicked puppy face increased in intensity.

"But I could've gone for another round…"

"You ruined it!" Waver spat, nearly collapsing as he got off the bed, hurriedly gathering his shirt and pants. "Or— damn it all, you and your maids, and all your money, and your—"

"Waver…"

He didn't even bother to disguise the disappointment in his voice, huh? Waver huffed, his brain flooding with the thoughts his arousal kept at bay.

—Did he love Melvin?

Was this stupid? Did he just do something supremely and utterly ridiculous at the cost of his own dignity? Did he really fuck Melvin like that? Oh, man. He really fucked Melvin, who was still lying prone on the bed, his head pointed at him, with a particularly sulky expression on his face. He really fucked him alright.

It— it felt so good, but he— the image of Rider laughing and slapping his back and saying _Good job, boy! See? Food, sex, and war!_ crudely entered his imagination, and he felt a dull, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

...Actually, it was making him break into a cold sweat. Rider...Rider would be laughing at him. Rider would…

What did Waver just _do?_ He loved someone else. Why the fuck did he have sex with Melvin? What kind of monster was he? He felt bad. It felt bad that he was enjoying someone else's company. It felt bad that he enjoyed the sex so much. It felt bad that he wanted to fuck Melvin again.

"...Waver?"

Shameful. Waver was supposed to be carrying the legacy of his king, and here he was, fooling around with his best friend. What was he thinking? What right did he have to fool around?

Waver barely noticed Melvin sit up on his bed.

"...Waver!" He snapped back into the present, looking back at him with trepidation. "You're sure you don't want to?"

"I...I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I can't."

Waver rubbed his shoulder.

"Well...maybe another time!" Melvin said hopefully. Waver shook his head.

There was a silence. Waver fully expected Melvin to lose all interest, shrug him off and send him on his way.

"...You don't have to sleep on the couch tonight, you know."

"I don't want to use a guest room." Waver mumbled.

Melvin patted the bed next to him. "Come here. Just share the bed with me, you goon."

Waver frowned. For some reason, it felt just like back then— still hung up on Alexander the Great, showing up in the ruins of Babylon, and Melvin was there, waiting for him.

Against his better judgment, his feet took him back to the bed. Melvin was wiping himself off with tissues, picking the condom off a pillow.

"Here, help me to the bathroom first, would you? Then we can bask in the afterglow!"

"Ew." Waver made a face. "I mean, fine, but I'll do no basking, thanks."

"Ah, that's our Waver!" Melvin slung an arm around his shoulders as he slid off the side of the bed. "No time for tenderness or relaxation! You'll never settle down at this rate."

"Maybe I won't." Waver guided him to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

He didn't have any nightmares that night, and woke up in the morning with Melvin curled up against his chest. He almost didn't have the heart to push him off.

Almost.

* * *

"I must admit, I'm interested in that too." A young Reines El-Melloi Archisorte says, kicking her legs with a terrifying smile. Over a year had passed since that night. "Are you still a virgin?"

With deep, deep shame, Waver cries out, "What does it matter?!"


	2. swallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newly dubbed Lord El-Melloi II makes good use of his new apartment.

Waver said he wouldn't do it again. He said he wouldn't, but…

"Oh,  _ fuck!"  _ Melvin braced himself against the bookshelf in Waver's new apartment, his legs shaking as Waver kept one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped around his dick. Really, this position was getting to Waver's head. Melvin was trembling under him, sweat dripping under the collar of his shirt down his neck, just like he wanted him. Yes! Waver Velvet was fully in control— finally, Melvin wasn't getting the best of him. Anyone who took one look at the smile on his face would say simply, "pervert". That much he wasn't aware of, but what he  _ was  _ aware of was Melvin's dick and his own. His pants were still on and zipped up, but his erection was pressing against Melvin's ass, and Melvin was throbbing in his grip. "Oh,  _ Waver,  _ fuck," Melvin wasn't being particularly eloquent, but that seemed to speak for Waver's success.

Waver had not had sex since their last encounter. To say he was desperate was, in a sense, a criminal understatement. He rubbed himself against Melvin, sighing dreamily.

Feelings were beyond him at this moment. He wanted to fuck him, and that was that.

Melvin chuckled, looking back at Waver.

"What a way to, ah, christen your new place, huh?"

"Just shut up for once…" Waver tucked his nose against Melvin's neck.

"You know, I really thought you were, were agai, again, against, oh, against fucking me! I guess you're, now you're, f-fucking me, against, ah, fuck, oh man,"

"Stop trying to make word plays when we're having sex!" Waver hissed.

"Is this sex to you?" Melvin ground his hips back against Waver. "It's just a handjob…"

Waver groaned in defeat.

"If you want sex, though," Melvin reached behind himself, squeezing Waver's ass— enough with that! What was so great about his ass?! Waver reacted regardless, whimpering as Melvin spoke, "I'd be more than happy to, oh, mm, right there…"

Waver's thumb ran against the head of Melvin's dick. He did want more, but… "I don't have condoms."

"What!" Melvin turned his head to face him, scandalized. "Why the fuck not?! What kind of self-respecting man in the prime of his life doesn't keep— Ah, I forgot who I was speaking to for a moment."

The mood was ruined! Waver released him.

"Wha— Waaaaveeeer! Wait, actually. I feel kind of like I'm going to fall, can you—" Waver panicked at those words, wrapping his arms around him. Melvin went a little limp in his arms, and despite how light he was, Waver really couldn't keep it up for long. "Thanks! Hey, take me to the couch. Or the bedroom!"

"You're completely unmanageable…" Doing his best to shoulder his weight, he draped Melvin's arm over himself, helping him shuffle to Waver's bed.

"Oh, you cad! You took me to your bedroom after all!" Melvin relaxed against Waver's pillows, taking a deep, long breath. "Mmm...actually, maybe I'll take a nap." Waver's eyes wandered. Melvin’s fly was still down, his dick still hanging out of the gap between the fabrics, still half hard. "See something you like?" Melvin said, letting his legs part, and Waver hastily looked away, blushing.

...What was he doing? He knew he shouldn't. This wasn't the thing a friend would do, but it was Melvin's fault in the first place. If he wasn't so stupidly flirtatious, Waver wouldn't be…

He climbed into bed with him. Waver's bed was less than half the size of Melvin's, which was perfectly fine for the sake of sleeping— Waver wasn't used to anything better— but for sex? ...Well, it’d have to do.

Melvin smiled at him, and Waver likened, for a moment, his heart to that violin he used for magecraft. Played like one, at least. That smile was growing on him— as if it hadn't been since they met— and it made him do stupid things. And think stupid things. His heart, a violin? Really?

"Waver?" Melvin said softly. There was that surprise again, like he couldn't quite believe Waver was on top of him, their bodies flush against each other. Their lips connected as they hadn't in quite some time, but frustratingly enough, it was just as good as the idealized version in Waver's head.

Melvin’s thin frame rose and fell with his breath. He was too fragile, Waver thought, and he had to beat back a surge of romantic inklings that followed. No, thank you! This was purely physical, he told himself firmly, as Melvin stroked his hair.

Melvin's lips parted. Waver's hand wormed its way in the space between their bodies, gently taking hold of Melvin again, who sighed sweetly.

"Waver," Melvin's body rocked against him. "What do you want to do? Are, mm, are you just going to finish me off like this?"

"I told you, I don't have condoms."

"Can't you do something else? Like...with that mouth of yours?" And so innocently! Melvin batted his eyelashes, and Waver glared at him.

"...You want me to...to blow you?"

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be the best head I've gotten!" Waver's stomach sunk a little bit. "But I'm willing to give you an amazing learning opportunity. What do you say?"

Waver grumbled, leaning away from him. His head dipped between Melvin's legs, and the look on Melvin's face was that of a child being handed a brand new toy. 

In the few seconds he had, he ran through the pornography he'd watched and his own nonexistent experience, then decided it couldn't be that hard. A hand reached out to cradle Melvin's hips, and his breath ghosted over him, his cock. He licked a stripe up the length of it, then tilted his head, taking the tip into his mouth. What felt good when he jerked off? If he just tried to do the same with his tongue, that'd probably be good, right? 

“W-Waver...go on, keep going...that’s good,”

The weight of it in his mouth was odd, but not unpleasant. If he was being honest with himself, he liked it, and his own body shifted a little as heat made its way through it. Swallowing around him, he jerked off what he didn't have in his mouth.

Surely, the women he had been with were all experts at oral sex. Melvin probably came buckets! Good for him. Well, Waver Velvet, the exceedingly average— or, rather, El-Melloi II, as he had just been dubbed— was going to do his damnedest to make Melvin wish he wasn’t so ungrateful. 

Waver took him deeper into his mouth, shifting in his position laying in Melvin’s lap. It was a little tricky to get the hang of, and he waited to gauge Melvin's reaction, spit running down his chin.

—Melvin’s face was pink, his lips hanging apart from each other. There was a note of incredulity to his expression, like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He'd have to come with grips to reality pretty soon, Waver thought. Melvin's hair was a bit in his face, sticking with the sweat. A pink tongue darted out over those lips.

"Oh...good, that's so...fuck," Melvin's hips jerked. Waver made a muffled noise. "Sorry! Ah, shit. Fuck. Go on, go on…"

He took him further and further in, keeping eye contact, now. It was uncomfortable, but Waver was nothing if not stubborn, and Melvin provided more than enough encouragement. His tongue swirled around his cock as his nose began to brush against Melvin’s pubic hair. The pressure in his crotch was becoming a little distracting, so he slipped his hand down to his pants to fumble with the button and zipper.

"Ah, ah— Wait, hold on! Waver, let me, do you too."

Waver lifted his head off of him and said throatily, "I don't know how long I can wait."

"Oh? Hmm...Wow, that's a shame! Then I guess we'll have to do this at the same time!"

"A-Are you suggesting we…"

Melvin laughed. "You're such a prude! Here, come on. It's not that crazy."

Melvin scooted down on the bed so that there was more room for Waver's legs. Waver swallowed heavily, the taste of Melvin's skin still heavy on his tongue, and turned his body— Melvin unzipped Waver's pants, pulling them and his underwear down his thighs to his knees. The cold air prickled on his legs, and he was happy, for once, to shut Melvin up completely. 

Melvin took him well. Waver got back to it, licking around the base, then taking him back into his mouth. The situation struck him as impossible, too, suddenly— something he had only seen in pornography, happening right in his bedroom! Melvin whined, and Waver groaned in reply. If Melvin had gained more experience with men in the time since they'd last had sex, Waver had no idea, but Melvin was definitely good at what he did— maybe too good? He was already getting close, and he bobbed his head back and forth, struggling to coordinate himself properly and gasping for breath.

Melvin hummed, grabbing Waver and pulling him against his face. Waver squirmed, "W-What are— Ah— M-Melvin! Mel—" and Melvin paid his desperation no mind, taking his time with running his tongue against him, pulling back, then shifting back forward, so slow it made him ache. His mouth was warm, so warm, he felt like he could melt in it, curling closer and lapping at Melvin's cock in a valiant effort to reciprocate. "Melvin, I— Oh, shit! I think I'm going to—"

Melvin pulled back, switching to jerking him off. "Go on, cum for me."

Waver whimpered again, his hips moving with Melvin's hand, and Melvin pressed a kiss to the tip, then gave a languid lick— That was enough, and Waver cursed as he came on Melvin's face. He took Melvin back deep into his mouth as he came down, and Melvin squeaked as Waver's enthusiasm took over. "Oh! Oh, I, haha, wow! Waver, oh, Waver, w-wait, Waver, oh!"

Waver was going to overtake all those girls in Melvin's mind, he thought. Or, men, if they existed. Waver was going to show Melvin just how good he could be, not to fucking underestimate him for once, to want him and want to fuck him and—

"Coming! Waver, I—" Waver pulled Melvin closer. "Jesus, Wah, Way, Waaaaaaaaaver!"

Hot. It was hot in his mouth, and Waver managed not to choke, swallowing. It was bitter and salty, just like it was that night. As soon as most of it was down, he yanked his head back, covering his mouth with his wrist as he gulped down the rest.

"Holy  _ shit."  _ Melvin was beaming at him, sitting up and wiping his hair off his face. "Did you swallow it all?" Waver nodded. "That's pretty sexy, I'm not going to lie, Waver!" Waver aimed a soft kick at him. "Haha, owww, come on!"

...There was still semen on Melvin's face. Waver looked away, his cheeks burning. His throat was already feeling sore. And his jaw.

"You've, um." Waver managed, pointing beside his nose. "Still got some, uh. Right there." Melvin wiped it off, then sucked it off his hand, maintaining eye contact, then laughed.

"You're too cute." Melvin laid on top of him, and Waver had half a mind to throw him off. "Mm...yep! I gotta say, that wasn't the worst head I've ever gotten." This time, Waver did push him away, getting to his feet. "Aw, Waver!"

He pulled his boxers and pants back up, frowning. "That was the last time." He grumbled, going to the box of cigarettes on his dresser and pulling one out. "We're not doing this again."

The blankets rustled from behind him. He grabbed a match, lighting his cigarette, and taking a long drag. It got the taste of semen out of his mouth, which he, admittedly, wasn't happy to lose, but he needed to forget about this.

"Oh, you say that, but you'll be back." Melvin said. Waver turned sharply. "...Joking! I'm joking, you know. I get it. I won't bother you for sex ever again. On my honor! Now, can you pass me a cigarette, please?"

Why had he wanted so suddenly to be the only man Melvin was involved with? He didn't know. Whatever took him over in that moment, Waver was casting it as far away from himself as possible.

He glared for a little longer, then obliged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow did i really write this in like...one night? yes. yes i did! aha ha ha.  
> i gotta admit melwav ? real


	3. indulge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waver and Melvin carefully dance around the issue, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for drug use, that's about it though. stamps a big ol' "informed consent" sign on the door

Melvin’s hands fiddle with Waver’s buttons.

“What was his name?”

Waver almost says  _ Rider,  _ but the idea of saying that aloud to Melvin was mortifying.  _ Yes, the man I loved was named Rider. He didn’t ride me, though!  _ Ha ha ha. What a fucking comedy. And even then, the question was his name, not his title. He swallows, a thin hand grazing his chest as the haze sets in. 

“Iskandar.”

“Exotic!” Melvin comments regardless, and Waver elbows him sharply. “—Ow! Okay, sorry. Iskandar, huh? What was he like?”

“...Huge.” Waver catches himself. “Tall. Big meathead. All muscles, and...he had bright red hair.”

“Is that so?” Melvin whispers in his ear. Waver shivers, anticipation roiling in his stomach. “Go on, get as descriptive as you please.”

“...His hair was, um, curly…” Melvin’s hand skates down his stomach, and he presses a kiss to where his hair is parted to either side on the nape of his neck. A shudder runs through him, and Melvin’s hand undoes his fly on its own. “He had a shitty beard, too. And scars all over…”

Melvin hums, opening Waver’s shirt further. He’s pressed close to him from behind, his legs hugging Waver’s hips, and Waver can feel him begin to get hard.

“Do you want to take another hit? How do you feel?” Melvin asks. The whole room stinks of weed smoke. Smoke? Weed smoke. Is there a better way to put that, even? Waver feels like he’s under a heavy blanket. Like his head is more forward in time than the rest of his body.

“...He was a bastard,” Waver grabs Melvin’s wrist, directing his hand to his crotch. “And he...I…”

“Calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” Melvin drawls, then bites Waver’s neck softly. Waver’s voice hitches, a high note from the depth he kept it at so no one would fucking laugh at him anymore. Melvin then runs his tongue against it and sucks. Waver feels it in his spine, in his toes as they curl, and he tries to at least grind back against Melvin, who scoots to avoid him. “Keep talking.”

“He was...he was so…” Waver groans as Melvin moves his hair, sucking on another patch of his neck like a leech. “Big. Big as my thigh.”

Melvin pauses.

“Holy  _ shit.  _ You mean his— Soft or hard!”

“Soft…”

“And you didn’t hop on that!”

“I couldn’t, Melvin. People were dying…” Melvin almost starts talking before Waver cuts him off. “And I wanted to...be in him…”

Melvin laughs, and laughs and laughs. Waver hates his laugh. He turns his head and bites Melvin’s mouth, and they kiss for what feels like not long enough. Melvin’s mouth runs with spit, and Waver turns to face him.

“So you like burly types, eh? And you want to top them?”

“I guess…”

Waver bites his lip. Smoking weed made him, if anything, inordinately horny. His eyes float in his skull, his teeth set in his jaw.

Melvin looks appetizing. Waver crawls on top of him, not taking any coyness any longer.

“Do you think about him when we fuck?” Melvin asks, nonchalant. “Do you wish it was him?”

“I...sometimes. But I…I don’t always…” Melvin tastes sour. Waver’s mouth moves with great effort, and it feels so natural. It feels natural to kiss Melvin, to be held in his arms, to feel his hands on him and to spread his legs more so Melvin can pull him out of his fly. “It’s not like...I could be with him like this…”

That admittance is painful. He wants to believe he’ll see Rider again, but he never will. 

Melvin’s hands are slick with lube that Waver doesn’t remember seeing him put on. That’s okay. His skin is hot, burning and boiling, and Melvin’s hands are nice and cool.

“You’re sure you’re alright with this?” Melvin asks, but Waver’s more than lucid enough.

“Please,” He pulls his pants off, leaning all his weight on Melvin. “Just get me off already…”

Melvin laughs that good-natured, airy laugh. “It’s so weird to hear you talk like that, you know.”

As Melvin rubs Waver off, Waver unfocuses, his brain swimming in memories of Rider’s touch, in Melvin’s. The first time he and Melvin fucked, the times Waver wished they had. 

“Ha! What I’d give to hear one of your fantasies.” Melvin says. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Fuck…” Waver shivers as Melvin’s hand pumps him. “I want to— I want to—“

Melvin’s other hand slips behind him. “Do you mind?” Melvin grins.

Waver, with a hint of shame, shakes his head, and Melvin’s finger pushes inside him. Waver moans out a garbled sound, maybe an attempt at Melvin’s name. All of his thoughts start to blur. He wants to fuck Melvin. He wants Melvin to fuck him. How can he think about Rider when Melvin’s right in front of him? When their bodies are so different, their voices? He’s confused. Who exactly does he love, again? Just Rider, right? Definitely not Melvin? Even though his finger is brushing just the spot inside him, jacking him off so diligently?

"What do you want, Waver?"

“I-I want… Oh, fuck. Melvin…” Waver trembles, sweat running down his thighs and back. It all feels too good. Can’t he love them both? Is that so strange? Is it wrong to love two men separately? He wasn’t giving up on Rider, but he— "I...I want to...I want to come like this, with, you, with you, I want to...F-Fuck, don't stop…!"

He groans, moving his hips with Melvin’s hands. He can feel Melvin pressing into him from his seat on his lap, hard through his pants. Melvin’s tongue is running against his Adam's apple, and he squirms, trying to get all of it, greedy, wanting every bit of Melvin he can get. He chants “oh, shit” with increasing desperation, and when Melvin pushes a second finger inside him and curls them in deep, it’s over. His body twists, and he comes onto Melvin’s front, shaking and delirious. He’s struggling to see right, heavy in the limbs.

"Melvin…" He smashes their face together without further ado, grinding on him. He's not done yet. Not yet. He tugs on Melvin's lip with his teeth, and Melvin leans back against his hands.

"Waver, come on. What do you want?"

"What do  _ you  _ want, Melvin?" Waver deflects, as is best for him. “Why do you do this with me, huh?”

Melvin stutters. “Be— Because it’s funny, obviously.”

“What if I don’t believe that?” Waver grabs him hard through his pants. “Just be honest. You wanted to be with another man, didn’t you?”

Melvin, startled, giggles. Waver’s hips tremble a little as he makes quick work of Melvin’s pants and underwear, and Melvin lets it be done, watching with an uncharacteristic softness. His eyes almost look wet. Waver manages to get the lube on his hand, taking his time, gentle and slow on Melvin’s cock.

“Oh,” Maybe this is wrong. “Waver, I,” Maybe this really isn’t what Waver should be doing. Maybe he’s hurting himself more this way— but it feels so good, and Melvin’s face relaxes and hangs slack. “F-Faster, oh, Waver,” But maybe Waver’s kidding himself. Does he need to move on? Is this just another manic attempt at fixing his life? Is fucking Melvin every so often just trying to fill the hole in his heart? “Kiss me!” As their lips connect, Waver thinks of whose money he flew to Japan on. He thinks of who was waiting for him in Babylon, who shared a bed in the hostels and gave him a couch to sleep on. He thinks of Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, his red cape billowing in the wind, his huge muscles and his kind laugh and his bashful smile. It all swirls together, and Melvin is so beautiful, red in the face and tilting his head back, his collarbones stretching painfully against his skin, like a white bedsheet, and he’s so close to him, so real and alive, so easy, so comfortable, and Waver jerks him off with a fondness he never knew he had for Melvin, and it hurts, all the same. Maybe he didn’t smoke enough to make all these thoughts go away. He sucks on Melvin’s nipple, pulling with his teeth. “—Fuck, fuck, fuck! Waver, oh fuck!” And he likes that too. He likes that sound. Hearing another man come undone, in all the shamelessness of it, in Melvin grunting and shaking, “Faster— L-Like that, oh, fuck,” And his nails scrape into Melvin’s thigh, and little red roses bloom all over that pale chest, love bites and cautious hickeys, “Oh, fuck me! So good, Waver, I love you—“

Waver bows his head. He can’t look at Melvin.

“I’m— coming! I’m coming! Oh, fuck!”

He comes into Waver’s hand, bucking his hips, then cringing and falling like a ragdoll onto the bed. He pants, then coughs, which progressively sounds wetter—

“Oh, god— Melvin!”

The splash of red hits the floor as Melvin leans over the side of the bed. Waver flounders uselessly, the sound of retching filling the room.

“—I’m fine!” Melvin’s head pops right back up.

“Um...t-that’s good…”

“...Oh, you’re not hung up on the ‘I love you’ thing, are you?” Melvin titters. “I didn’t mean it, you know.”

“Of course you didn’t…” Waver grumbles, grabbing tissues to wipe his hand off on.

“Hey, wanna take a few more hits and keep fucking around?”

“...Should you be doing this after puking that much blood…?”

“Oh, come on! I can handle this much, at least.”

Melvin smiles with red teeth.

Waver frowns. Melvin reaches out— Waver almost shies away, but Melvin grabs his shoulder and jostles him.

“Humor me?”

“...Fine.” 

Melvin can only come one more time before he gets exhausted. Waver travels back to his apartment in a fuzzy state, given a ride from the Weins family, which he does not enjoy being recognized as “a friend of the young master” by, and sits on his couch jerking off.

He falls asleep with his hand on his dick, weightless.

* * *

“Professor Charisma is late today…” A nine-year-old Svin Glascheit says sadly, kicking his legs.

An older student, Ayaka Sajyou, a nice girl from Japan, Svin thinks it was, smiles at him understandingly. He bristles at her regardless, shrinking away from her sight.

Flat, the only other kid his age, pats his hair. "There there, Svin." He coos, and Svin considers biting him—

“Alright, in your seats, everyone.”

Svin bounds to the front of the room, grabbing Professor Waver Velvet— or rather, Lord El-Melloi II’s hand.

“Oh, Svin. Not now, alright? Go sit down.” Svin aggressively sniffs his hand and recoils, scrunching his face up at the smell.

“...Svin? What’s wrong?”

“...You smell weird! Like Mister Weins, and all syrupy and pink, and yellow and fluffy and fuzzy, and also, stinky, like skunk—“

“T-That’s enough out of you!” Professor Velvet barks. Svin recoils again, biting the professor’s arm and scampering off. “OW…! N-No, no. It’s okay, Svin. I didn’t mean to yell at you. You sit down, alright? We can talk after class.”

Svin, petulant, but obedient, hurries to his seat. The classroom is abuzz with laughter and whispers, but Svin doesn’t like the other students. He doesn’t trust people older than him.

...The professor was becoming an exception, but he didn’t know that, yet.

As for Flat? He'd never trust him.

(Upon hearing this relayed, Melvin let out a laugh so hard that Waver nearly swung at him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man despite being someone who smokes a lot i absolutely SUCK at writing being high?! well anyways, here you go, my fair readers. i hope you enjoy


	4. acrimony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heated argument gets a little too heated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for:  
> suicidal ideation, emotional constipation and some violent imagery

It’s on the ninth anniversary of the Fourth Fuyuki Holy Grail War that Waver falters again.

Melvin presses him up against the wall, and Waver’s hands run up and down his back, ducking under his suit jacket if only to feel him better.

“We can’t.” Waver hisses into Melvin’s mouth. “I told you, I—“

“Won’t you let me be selfish for once, if you’re so hellbent on going to this war again?” Melvin’s eyes are intense. Sharp and painful, pricking Waver’s skin. He looks back, unafraid, but pained all the same. “Lord knows my health won’t get better by then! Can’t go with you, and who knows! Maybe I’ll never…“

Melvin trails off, but that’s painful to hear, too. Why does it hurt so badly? Waver can’t fathom it. Can’t bear to try to understand why hearing him like this, looking at Melvin, his face so close to his own, his expression breaking at the edges in desperation...what about that could possibly hurt him?

Because he doesn’t care. He couldn’t. Not about Melvin. Not like this.

“What’s— What’s so important there that you’d give up everything here?” Melvin looks away. “Just...answer that much...please.”

“...There’s something I have to—“

“Not that again!” Melvin’s voice is strained. “C’mon, aren’t we friends? Can’t you be honest with me?”

Waver looks away.

Tell him?

Tell him everything? All the dead children, their innards cut and cleaned and strung taut like macabre musical instruments? The servants and their Noble Phantasms, their masters? All the times Rider smiled at him, or frowned, or smacked him around? The love he felt, the fealty he felt, the way all he could do anymore when it all became too much was live on in his name?

He presses his lips into a thin line. He can’t say a damn word of any of that to Melvin. What if he laughed? What if he made a remark, or got angry? What if he—

“I see.” Melvin says. “I see!” And he pulls away, a grimace taking over his face. Waver feels a stake drive into his heart, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to grab Melvin’s wrist. That handsome face shouldn’t be drawn into such a painful look. Not like this. Not because of Waver. Waver pulls him over easily— almost like he’s a ragdoll— and kisses him.

Melvin reciprocates passionately. They never kissed too much in the few moments that they had spent intimately, which Waver suddenly regretted.

If he was going back to Fuyuki, it was either to see Rider again and win the Grail, or to die. That was all.

—Maybe that was throwing everything away. The El-Mellois' debt, his role as a teacher, everything. Maybe he was taking a coward’s route. Maybe he was just too afraid to kill himself, and too stubborn to find his own happiness. Maybe he resented himself for living.

As the years went on, his life wore down further and further on him. Playing politics with a bunch of stuck up, privileged mages and being belittled and talked down to on a daily basis? That wasn't exactly easy. Nightmares every night, painful panic attacks, every moment of flirtation or intimacy with any man simply reminding him of the blades piercing that red cape, and how he hit the asphalt knee by knee, gold glittering around him until he was no more…

Remembering is so awful. Remembering is the worst part, but he has to. It was his duty to carry on that mantle.  _ Glory lies beyond the horizon.  _ But sometimes, it felt like it was killing him.

Love is far, far away from him, yet so close. Melvin smells like expensive cologne. He tastes like blood. An arm settles low on Waver’s hips, the other hand loosening Waver’s tie. If Waver could only sort himself out. If only he could swear himself off these odd bouts of sexuality with his best friend, or swear himself off intimacy entirely, go throw himself in a river and be done with it. Be free of all this, never think again about the money he owed or the people who despised him for his blood or his class, none of it. No stress, no worries. Just an eternity of nothing.

Melvin bites his neck, and Waver gasps, his legs trembling. Can he forgive himself for weakness? He was always sensitive there, and Melvin was the only one who knew. Melvin fondles him through his pants, and that gesture is so simple. So thoughtless. How natural was it for Waver to grind against his palm? It was like they were a matching pair, and that was so infuriating, Waver could cry.

“Let me fuck you.” Melvin grits his teeth. “Let me have that much, won’t you? Spare some kindness.” He drips with venom, and Waver cringes. He’s never seen Melvin like this. He’s never been with Melvin like that before, either. He swallows heavily, nodding. Why not experience it all before he marches off the edge? Might as well.

Waver finds himself seated in Melvin’s lap with their clothes off not too much later. His couch is as good enough a place as any. Their arms are wrapped around each other like a vice, and Melvin pushes his way inside. Gasping for breath, hair in his mouth, Waver clings onto him.

Melvin's body shakes. Waver has to do most of the moving. Melvin's back on his elbows, watching Waver move his hips on top of him, but for once, they can't stay separate for too long. Waver's lips chase Melvin's, and they do what they always did best.

Not talking about it, but shoving the question in each other's faces regardless.  _ You love me, don't you?  _ But he can't, he can't. Waver can't. He promised himself he wouldn't. If he had the strength to move on, he'd be a different person entirely. If he was able to love someone else, would he be so miserable?

Waver was not a risk taker when it came to his happiness. That much was clear by now.

If he could love Melvin...if he could tolerate letting him closer to him than he already was...

...How much closer could they get? Unable to leave each other alone, arguing, laughing, and it was always Melvin who was waiting for him at the end of the day. Who knew how he took his tea, who would remark things like "I miss it when you wore green!", who had seen every Waver Velvet there ever was, and never turned away or hated him. Never left, never disappeared, never died in a blaze of glory while forcing Waver to live on.

Waver attracted death. That was his problem. His parents, his Servant, associates and students, anyone and everyone seemed to fall to dust in his hands. Was that a part of the fear, or was that just him trying to excuse himself? He was hurting Melvin enough. He was always hurting Melvin. He didn't want to kill him, on top of that.

He takes him well, jerking himself off as he struggles to ride Melvin with any kind of technique. His mouth tangles together with Melvin’s. As always, it just feels right to be together this way. He hates that it does. Another throb up his length, and he rises and falls against him with all the effort he can muster. It feels better than he thought to be fucked. His status and facade crumble, and he grips Melvin’s shoulder too tightly.

That’s right. When he’s with Melvin, he’s Waver Velvet, and no one else. How comforting, but how selfish. Without much further ado, he comes, shaking and limp legged, trying to keep it up for Melvin’s sake but failing. Melvin slips out of him, and too overwhelmed by his fading orgasm to continue, he reaches back and rubs Melvin off. It doesn’t take long at all before Melvin whimpers and strains his hips under Waver’s weight, coming into the condom he was wearing.

The sex is over, but they stay curled up together for a long time on Waver’s couch, holding on tight.

“Do you regret this?” Melvin’s voice is startlingly quiet. “All this? Getting with me, you know?”

Waver kisses him. “I don’t know.”

“...Better than an outright ‘yes’! I’ll take it!” He laughs pathetically. “I’ll...I’ll take it.”

“Melvin…” Waver says...

...but he doesn’t know what more to say.

Melvin spends the night. He’s gone before Waver wakes up.

They don’t dare speak alone together until Melvin shows up on the train Rail Zeppelin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man idk how much longer this will be but (hands you this ,smiling) :)


	5. long shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord El-Melloi II is late for a tutoring session with Gray.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“I know!” Melvin says brightly, brandishing a bouquet of roses. “I brought flowers. Do you accept those?”

Waver sighs. Firstly, he’s in his pajamas. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even opened the door. Secondly, Melvin is very nicely dressed, which is pissing him off. And thirdly, Melvin has red roses.

_Why?_

Why is he here so bright and early, when he knew Waver didn’t wake up on weekends before noon? Why is he smiling so shinily, like his teeth were recently replaced with diamonds, and he can’t get enough of showing them off? Why’s he so cute—?

Ah, bad. That was a close call. Waver almost had feelings for a moment. He sighs, opening the door wider.

“Congratulations on officially dropping out of the race for the Fifth Holy Grail War!” Melvin exclaims as the door closes, then promptly starts coughing. He grins. “What say you? Shall we celebrate?”

Waver frowns at him with all his might. “I don’t see a cause for celebrating.”

“Oh, please! Instead of marching off dutily towards your death, you’re...marching off dutily towards your death in another direction!” Melvin grins again. “Well, chum? How about we go do something together?”

Waver frowns harder.

That’s right. The last time they’d been alone together was before he took on Gray as an apprentice. That night when Melvin burned hard inside him, and their lips never strayed too far. He still remembers how weak his grip was, yet firm, somehow. Like he’d let go if Waver wanted him to, wordlessly. Waver hated that kindness. He hated the tongue in that mouth, curling with his, wet and warm, and—

“Ohoooooh? What’s going on, Waver? What’re _you_ thinking about?”

Waver snaps back into reality, following Melvin’s gaze down to his boxers, and—

Scrambling, Waver stomps from the living room back to his bedroom. 

“Ah— Wait! Waaaaaver! Come on! Do you want to have sex? We can have sex!”

Waver leans his arm against the wall, his head against his arm.

What’s wrong with him?! Getting so obviously excited at the prospect! He and Melvin were _friends,_ and it was high time Waver acted like a friend instead of a bully or a confused half-lover. He needed to clear the air. No more fooling around, no more awkward, unspoken confessions! No confessions needing to be made! Just nice, friendly, _platonic_ interactions with Mister Melvin Weins. That was what he owed him. He gathers himself back together, turning—

“Hey, Waver?” Melvin takes a step past Waver’s doorframe.

“What.”

“You want to fuck, don’t you?”

Waver chews his lip. Be strong, Waver Velvet. Tell him you shouldn’t do this.

“You can be honest!”

Tell him you can’t!

“I won’t be mad. I’ve already forgiven you!”

Tell him you don’t have any feelings for him!

“...Waver?”

He turns, grabbing Melvin by his shoulder, then sliding a hand back to squeeze his ass. He glowers at him. “Do you know how irritating all this was? You showing up at the Rail Zeppelin. Following me around after that fight we had. Shouting ‘Waver, Waver!’ all the time!” He pulls Melvin against him. “And _then_ after hassling my students, you show up here like it’s nothing with a fucking bouquet?! What the fuck, Melvin! I can’t...I…!”

Heat rockets all around his body. Melvin gapes at him with just a hint of red in his face, and Waver’s hips rock just a little as his pulse quickens.

“...What’re you going to do, then?” Melvin asks coyly, resting his arms on Waver’s shoulders. “Put me in my place?”

“I am going to...I am…” Waver kisses him harshly. God, it’d been too long. He feels like a starved man, barely kept alive by meager crumbs and glances. “I'll fuck you so hard you shut your fucking mouth. How about that?”

Melvin tilts his head back and laughs, full and loud. At that motion, Waver leans in and bites his neck. He shouldn’t, but it’s what he wants more than anything. To chew him apart, to sink his teeth into that skin and watch it bruise.

But there's more than that, too. He wants to hear him laugh more, to whisper his name and feel those hands on him, just like they always are. Melvin had really become more and more handsome over the years, and it was starting to drive Waver insane in a way he couldn't admit. He hates it.

He hates all of it. He hates this feeling like he can't leave Melvin alone.

Lips parting against Melvin's throat, tugging his tie loose and tossing it aside. Fiddling with his buttons, pulling back with a gasp punctuating Melvin's legs hitting the side of Waver's bed. He's got Melvin where he wants him again. In his arms, his bare chest peeking from between the fabric of his button-up, his hair just a little mussed, and he _hates_ just how much that gets to him. Those clear eyes, his fair eyebrows, pink lips and elfish nose. What _could_ this be? Even if Waver knew, he'd refuse to recognize it. And hell, maybe he does know, but it's just that.

Calling it what it is would ruin the illusion.

They hit the sheets together, mouths locked together. Waver pushes his hands back through Melvin's hair, and Melvin runs his hands down Waver's back, pulling his hips down against him. The usual push and tug between them, familiar ways they tried to get at each other. The fact this even seemed to be going as it usually went just added to the feeling that no one knew Waver better than Melvin did. Like Melvin was the person he could easily let his guard down around and not worry over.

...Maybe that was it. It was just that Melvin was comfortable. Nothing more than that. That was all it needed to be, right? Waver felt safe around Melvin, and that was the extent of it. An idiot move on his part, considering just how ridiculous Melvin was of a person.

...But then again, what was so untrustworthy about Melvin? He had lent Waver money even when he hadn't actually said he would lend it to anyone. And then he did it again. He stuck around, holding Waver's hair back when he threw up from over-drinking, he sat on the floor of his apartment with him when he was in a bad spiral, just watching him play video games without a word. He even listened to him ramble about video games when he couldn't _possibly_ give a shit about them, and then went on to buy his own consoles and play on his own time. That was a kindness Waver couldn't understand the motivations of.

Maybe Melvin spoke harshly sometimes, but he was a decent person in the end. In the comfort of his own thoughts, Waver could admit that. He could admit he trusted him.

Melvin laughs again, pushing away from Waver. "For someone who was so angry a second ago, you sure are being sweet." Melvin says, his eyes twinkling. "What's all this about?"

—Whatever Melvin was referring to, Waver couldn't tell. Had he unconsciously started being affectionate? He strokes Melvin's cheek thoughtfully, cupping his chin with the other hand.

"...Nothing." Waver tries to manage a glare, wondering what the fuck got him on this track in the first place. What about Melvin made him feel so emotional these days? He had so much to worry about. Doctor Heartless, Faker, Gray, his students, everything. _Rider._ And out on the sidelines as usual, benched and waving a towel was Melvin, waiting for Waver to inevitably strike out or give up and return to his side, where he always seemed to end up.

Waver sinks back down into his arms, planting little kisses all over his neck and chest. Melvin’s body rises to meet him, all in his bony glory, all ribs and sharp corners. Waver pads them gently with his palms, gingerly touching the spots on Melvin’s body that strike his fancy. The spot between his ribs where they meet, down his stomach to his belt, which he undoes and lets fall to the floor. He kisses every part of him he can, and Melvin squirms, making an airy sound.

“Aha, Waver? H-Hey, Waver…”

Waver slides off the bed as well, getting on his knees with his head between Melvin’s legs. He helps his pants down, discarding them and admiring his naked body for a moment.

“Hey,” Melvin says, looking somewhere in between holding back laughter and grinning.

“Hey.” Waver replies, taking hold of his thighs. They fumble a little in positioning.

“Hey!” Melvin suddenly exclaims as Waver presses a kiss to his shaft, a strange chuckle prying its way from his lips. Melvin hums in appreciation as Waver licks him, pushing Melvin’s legs back, and his kisses dip lower and lower. _“Oh.”_ He groans, Waver nipping at his balls and taint, careful.

He finds, really, that he cannot push his tongue fully inside Melvin. The strain hurts, but he can at least play with the entrance. Melvin’s body tenses a little, then relaxes, then tenses, and the noises he makes drift around them like curling plumes of smoke. Waver takes his time, running the flat of his tongue against him, then the tip, and Melvin’s legs end up on his shoulders, Melvin’s body rocking in earnest against his face. The seconds turn to minutes, and time marches on as Waver teases, preoccupied with his effort. 

“This—“ Melvin gasps, “—little embarrassing!” He tries to laugh, but just moans instead. “Waver, please—“

Waver returns to his dick, which twitches under his lips, kissing and licking, then trailing kisses to the insides of his thighs, leaving hickeys there. Melvin's skin is almost sweet, and Waver’s grateful that Melvin unquestionably showered before he got there.

He pulls back, finally, wondering if he was excessive. Melvin lifts his head up with a dazed smile. He pushes his bangs back off his forehead as Waver reaches for his bedside table, pulling open the drawer there and grabbing a condom and lube.

Melvin scoots back on the bed to allow Waver on. Waver slides a slick finger inside him, next. Melvin’s hands bunch in Waver’s hair, tugging a little every now and again as Waver fingers him slowly. "I could, get used to this," Melvin croons, and Waver stifles a smile, pushing away any reactions and wondering, again, why he couldn't just get into that same swing as he usually did.

Soft air, short breaths and Melvin's fist in his hair. It really isn't that bad. The warmth around his finger, the feeling of Melvin's grip shifting, his body shifting, easing up around him.

“Waver, come on…” Melvin’s hips grind down against Waver’s knuckle. “Fuck me already.”

Waver, who had nearly forgotten about himself entirely, is now painfully aware of his erection. With a degree of embarrassment, he pulls his finger out, readying himself, then presses the tip of himself against Melvin with a short exhale.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Mevin muses, smoothing his hair down his back. “What’s up with you, huh?”

It takes a little easing in, but he manages. Melvin is relaxed around him, and Waver takes him into his arms.

Something about this time feels different.

It's like he doesn't have to rush, this time. He feels no need to hurry through, no burning desire to grab and fuck and make some great show of things. This isn't just to get off and get over with.

...Then what is it?

"Waver, hey," Melvin grunts, lacing his fingers behind Waver's head. "Mm, what's on your mind? You're, ah, you're normally more, talkative than this."

He panics for a moment. He doesn't know what to say, or what excuses to make. He doesn't have any answers for either of them. He just wants to feel him close for a little bit, despite having started all this by chewing him out.

To be frank, seeing him there on the Rail Zeppelin was a relief. Having him there to play support on his gambit, to stall for time with him when he needed…

It almost, _almost_ made him wish Melvin was around more often on his business, if it didn't mean Melvin would be putting himself in danger. And that was the other thing— it terrified him that he could be putting Melvin in harm's way. Why? What the fuck did any of that mean, lined up next to each other?

"W-Waver, ah, hey...Waver?"

The only logical conclusion frustrated him. That, and it made him miserable, because he just _couldn't._

To stop Melvin from questioning further, he covers his mouth with his own, jerking him off as he had become so used to, knowing how Melvin liked it. That was what he had always longed for with another man. Knowing what got him off, knowing what beers he drank, knowing what he looked like in the mornings before he brushed his hair and teeth and knowing what his face looked like when it was so late in the night it was early in the morning, the budding dawn shining on the curves and planes of his cheeks and nose. And how his hands looked when they tilted, and how his voice sounded when he came, and how his breath smells and tastes and everything. And Melvin does come, with a sob, holding onto Waver tightly, still smiling.

He had all this with Melvin. He had so much with him, so many moments he had deigned useless or not good enough, moments of vulnerability and happiness and sadness and…

He's almost too distracted to orgasm. He has to pull out, letting Melvin rest as he takes care of himself, but Melvin's hand joins his, and when Melvin says "Come for me," he doesn't have to think twice about it, and he chews his lip as his eyes squeeze shut.

Melvin pulls him down, and after Waver ties off the condom and wraps it in a tissue to dispose of later, Melvin bats his hand away from tidying further and gathers him close.

"Well, that was nice." He says, and Waver buries his face in his neck. His cologne is the one Waver bought him for his last birthday without much thought. Considering how thoughtless the gift was, he's surprised he remembers it. "Where did that all come from, huh?"

"Don't know." Waver says, and it's not exactly wrong, but it isn't exactly the truth. He wants closeness. He wants tenderness. He wants to hold, and be held in return. Melvin organizes his hair, casting locks back over Waver's shoulder, smoothing the sleeve there when he's done. 

And the moment drags on, and they adjust themselves a bit to be more comfortable. Waver lays still, something he rarely allowed himself. Melvin’s occupied playing with his hair, which is admittedly very nice. He almost feels like he can doze back off, melting into a nice puddle on top of Melvin.

“Um, teacher? I’m coming in—“

Those words, in that soft, unsure voice, and the front door swinging open—

“Gray!” He shrieks, shooting up like an arrow. His pants. Where are his pants?! “Don’t— Don’t come in!” He shouts, and Melvin opens his fucking mouth— no he doesn’t. Waver smacks his hand over his lips, shooting him a nasty look and pointing his finger at him in warning. “Sorry, Gray, can you come back later tonight? I’m— busy. Urgent business.”

Gray, who hasn’t even entered the apartment, replies. “Oh...Okay, that’s fine. Should I return around six, then?”

“Yes.” Waver says, exasperated. “I’m sorry. Something…came up.”

Melvin starts peppering Waver’s hand with kisses. Waver shoots him another look, and Melvin’s other hand wanders down his back. Waver raises his fist to strike him, and Melvin ceases, an apologetic smile crossing those disgustingly handsome features.

“It’s fine, teacher. I’ll be back later.” The door closes. Melvin chuckles, squeezing Waver’s ass, grinning deviously.

“Oh, you’re an awful teacher.” He chides, then releases him entirely. “Alright! Put some clothes on. Let’s go get lunch!”

“Huh?!” Waver watches as Melvin gets to his feet, collecting his clothing from Waver’s floor.

“Come on, you’re against lunch now? I’m hungry, and you only have stale cereal.” Waver opens his mouth. “Don’t defend yourself! Come on, you.”

* * *

“...And he sent you off? When he was supposed to be tutoring you?”

“Yes…” Gray says with a hint of humor, sipping tea from the cup Reines had offered to her.

“Aren’t you annoyed?” Reines lifts an eyebrow. “I’d have spanked him, personally.”

“Oh, um...no, it’s just...he seemed to be in a good mood.” Gray smiles at her knees. “He almost never is awake when I get there on weekends, and...well…”

“And?”

“There was a bouquet of roses on the table… So, I thought...maybe something nice had happened.”

 _“Roses?”_ Reines says incredulously. “...This is very valuable information, Gray.”

Gray tilts her head, raising her gaze to look at Reines. That sharp, icy glare was directed at the cookie she turned over in her dainty hand. Like a doll’s. She takes a bite, then smirks, as if this truly was something valuable.

“You don’t think he’s taken a lover, do you?” Reines says suddenly, leaning in.

“A—“ Gray thinks it over. “...I don’t think so…! But...well, if I had to guess…”

“If you had to guess…?” Reines leans in more.

“It’d either be Mister Galliasta, or Mister Melvin who gave him the roses.” Gray nods to herself. “Definitely.”

“Hmmmm. Is that so?” Reines ponders. “Well, I suppose that leaves your day open.”

“Ah...yes.” Gray blushes a bit, fiddling with the handle of her teacup. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“Perfect!” Reines relaxes her posture, leaning back against her chair. “How about we go on a date, then?”

“A...date?”

“Yes! Just you and I.”

Gray blinks a few times, then smiles.

“That would be lovely, Miss Reines.”

 _I hope teacher doesn’t mind if I’m a little late._ She thinks, not knowing he was currently thinking the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GIRLS NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry i couldn't not add them in


	6. interlude: snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waver and Melvin get to know each other a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is noncompliant with the rest of this collection, and thus an interlude! hooray

“Hey, Waver, why’d you invite me to your room?”

Waver snaps his book shut, glaring at Melvin. “To study? Is this a trick question?”

Melvin, who is lying on Waver’s bed with his pillow in his pale clutches, the pillow he  _ sleeps  _ with, who does he think he is?! Anyway, Melvin is looking at him with those big, stupid eyes, grinning ear to ear.

“No ulterior motives? I heard you play for the other team, so I—”

Waver gawks. “W-Who did you hear that from?!”

“—No one! I just assumed. What with your, uh...you-ness!”

Waver gets to his feet. “Well, for  _ your  _ information—“ Here he snatches the pillow from Melvin, “—Yes! I do! And so what?!”

Melvin clasps his hands together, delighted. “Tell me MORE, Mister Velvet! How many men have you had the pleasure of accompanying to bed?!”

“Z...Zero?! Why!”

“Oh! Oh! So you  _ did  _ take me back here to seduce me!” Melvin crosses his legs. “What a scandal! The ladies of the Clock Tower will be in uproar! They won’t stand for this, you know!”

“I-I didn’t— I just wanted your damn notes from the class I missed!”

“And then your way with me!”

“No!”

Melvin laughs aloud, bouncing on the cheap bedsprings. “Say, you’ve really never been with another guy?”

“...No.” Waver grumbles. “Look, can we drop it and study already?”

“Nope! And why not? Even though it seems fun!”

“S-Seems— What, Melvin, are you—”

“Oh, I assure you, my fondness for the ladies is absolutely the genuine article! But, well.” He laughs again. “I’ll try anything once!”

Waver is now in a predicament.

An interested(?!) young man is sitting on his bed, flirting with him, soliciting him for sex. Sure, it’s Melvin Weins, but…

…Waver smashes the pillow into Melvin’s face. “L-Lay off the jokes already, and give me your damn notes!”

Melvin hits the bed and arches, scrambling a little. “You’re so mean! I’m being honest with you, you know! No one else even knows,” A sniffle, “That I’d try it with a man! No one but you! But you neglect me, and cast me aside, Mister Velvet—”

“What kind of fantasy are you spinning now—?!”

“And here I am, so  _ vulnerable,  _ lying on your bed, with no one to touch me!”

He fondles the pillow for added effect. Waver grabs it, trying to take it out of his arms. “Lay off, you— y-you sex-crazed maniac! I’m not going to—”

“Why not! Why not I say! You’re a coward, Waver Velvet! A coward and a—”

_ “Fine!!!” _

Like planets aligning mysteriously out of season, the impossible has occurred. The strong-willed, cantankerous Waver Velvet…

“—I was kidding!”

Waver takes a deep breath.

“I don’t _ care _ if you were kidding! No _ idiot  _ like _ you  _ calls me a coward and gets away with it! Now, come here!”

Waver manages to pry the pillow out of Melvin’s grasp. When he does, he’s surprised to see that Melvin’s face is a stark shade of red.

“W-W-W-Wait wait wait! Hold on! Stop the presses!” Melvin smacks a hand over Waver’s mouth. “Hold on, ahahahaha. Wait!”

“I’m waiting.” Waver grumbles, muffled by his fingers.

“Let’s...take this slow!” Melvin says, gaining some composure. “Here.”

Melvin’s thumb glides over Waver’s lips.

The intimacy of that motion terrifies him, all at once. He jerks a little, almost to withdraw, but his  _ pride  _ is balancing precariously, here. Withdrawing isn’t an option. He leans in a bit, and he notices how light Melvin’s eyelashes are. How clear those eyes are, a color like the sky after a big storm, and isn’t that  _ soooo  _ nice for him! Waver’s own hazel eyes always got compared to dirt. He’s suddenly jealous, and angry, and that feeling stokes a fire in his stomach.

Melvin’s finger presses into Waver’s mouth. Waver, confused, lets it happen—

“There, aren’t you a good boy—” Waver bites him. “Ow! Haha, okay! I guess that’s not your—”

Waver runs his tongue against Melvin’s finger, pulling it deeper into his mouth. He doesn’t want to look at him, so he shuts his eyes, the Herculean effort of sucking on him while trying, somehow, to make the stupidest thing imaginable— Really! His stupid fingers! Somehow, somehow erotic.

Melvin pulls his hand back. Waver’s eyes open too late, and Melvin lips are on his, that tongue in his mouth.

They end up, more than anything, struggling against each other. Melvin pulls Waver closer and closer still until they fall back against his comforter, twisting. Melvin winds up on top with a knee between Waver’s legs, and Waver makes a strangled kind of noise.

—Entirely, way too embarrassing! Waver wants to go crawl under a rock and die for making a noise like that, but Melvin is…

...Well, it’s Waver’s first kiss, so how could he know? But he feels like Melvin might be very good at kissing, and he can feel the hot, heavy pulse of arousal up his crotch.

Waver lets himself drift for a bit, and Melvin tastes a bit like blood, a bit like some kind of mint he can’t place. He lets his hips move against Melvin a bit, cautiously, very cautiously. His halting movements and breath, his hands resting so low on Melvin’s hips. Is this all okay? Is this alright? Waver feels so self conscious, he could die.

Melvin pulls on Waver’s lip with his teeth. There’s suddenly a hand on his crotch, and—

“Mm, wow. That really is a dick, huh.”

_ “What the fuck does that mean?!” _

“Well, I’ve only ever been with those without them! You know.” Melvin bats his eyelashes. “Oh, you’re a little awful at kissing, but you’ll get there, surely! One da—” Waver bites him on the mouth. “—Ow! Violence! Violence! I’m being manhandled!”

Waver grabs him firmly through his pants, and Melvin grunts, drawing him back into another kiss.

“That’s no way to treat a nice young man like me.” Melvin says softly.

“Oh, can it, will you?!” Waver jabs, getting a feel for the outline of him against the fabric, letting his own hips rise in response to Melvin’s touch. “You’re cuter when you don’t talk.”

“Wow!” Melvin pulls back.  _ “Wow!”  _ And then Waver drags him back down, sliding his hand down the front of Melvin’s pants. Melvin sighs, and his underwear gives way to wiry hair, and Waver can’t deny that he didn’t at least partially fantasize about this kind of thing.

...Try as he may to act beyond it all, but Waver had wanted to fuck him very badly.

“H-Hey, Waver. I want to see yours.” Shifting his weight back, Melvin delicately pulls Waver's hand from his pants, sitting up.

“...Fine, pervert.”

“Oh,  _ I’m  _ the pervert! You wound me!” Waver unbuckles his belt and eases his loose-fitting pants down his hips. "Tighty whities...I see!"

"Shut it!" Waver swipes at him, and Melvin dodges, laughing. Melvin's hand makes a grab for the waistband, pulling them down and wrestling him free.

"Oh!" Melvin's face is hard to explain. He bites his lip with some kind of look of shock and delight. "There it is!"

"I'll hit you." Waver growls. "I really will."

His penis is really nothing to write home about. It's average. He has thick, dark, curly pubic hair, and all too much of it.

...It feels weird. His chest feels weird. Melvin's staring too hard. "W-Well? Are you going to take off your pants, or not?"

"Ohh, right! I'm sure you want to see mine, yeah?"

Waver glowers. Melvin undoes his fly and pulls down his boxer briefs, and his partially hard cock pops out.

It’s very…red. His hair is sparse and light. Waver swallows.

“...Mine’s bigger.” He says, huffing.

“Really now!” Melvin laughs. “That’s wishful thinking, isn’t it?”

“Wishful—!” Waver pulls him down. Melvin’s light, kind of like a ragdoll, and falls against him easily. “You get over— There.”

They angle their hips against each other. Waver can feel their balls press up against each other as he hooks a leg over Melvin’s. Embarrassing. He holds their dicks up against each other.

“You’re so violent.” Melvin murmurs.

“Look, just—” Waver sighs through his nose. He’s never...well, he’s never held another man’s cock before, firstly. And now his is touching another’s. And...it’s all happened very fast, hasn’t it? His brain swims in that for a bit. 

“Mine IS bigger!” Melvin declares in ecstasy. “Would you look at that!”

“Hate you.” Waver mumbles. He...runs his hand up, then down the both of them, lightly. Shivering, he looks away.

“Hey, Waver.” Melvin tilts his head, his smile lopsided. “Let’s do it.”

“Do—  _ Do it?!”  _ Waver nearly shrieks.

“You know!” Melvin makes a jerking off motion. “—Why, did you think I meant anal? Heaven’s, no! I think you’d need to take me out to dinner, first— Or would that make your ass—?”

“Please, stop talking.” Waver groans. “Fine. Fine! We got this far!” His tone of voice has a note of hysteria. “Ha, ha. Oh, god. My first time is with Melvin Weins.”

“Now, don’t be ashamed!” Melvin pats Waver’s thigh. “A lot of lovely ladies have lost their virginities to me. You can join their ranks! You can all have tea together—”

_ “Scumbag.”  _ Waver hisses, almost involuntarily. He fumbles for his nightstand, pawing uselessly at it until he manages to open the drawer. Melvin provides no assistance. He pulls out some lotion.

“That is so bravely sexless.” Melvin muses.

“Can you  _ please  _ cut the commentary?!” Waver squirts some into his hand, then reaches back over, taking a deep breath and then some.

His hand, Melvin’s dick, and his own. On this brave foray into the unknown, Waver feels like he’s going to throw up. Maybe he’ll get so angry he’ll faint. That’s happened before! Melvin will get bored and leave. That’ll be the end of it.

He pumps them together, licking his lips. Melvin’s is maybe half a centimeter longer than his own. Bright red, uncircumcised. As Waver’s hand moves on them, the skin pulls back, and he presses his thumb into the head, tensing his grip, then back down, tensing around the base.

“Y-Y’know, this isn’t bad.” Melvin begins, despite Waver having just told him to shut up. “You know, your hair is kind of long. You could almost be a girl—”

“I’m a  _ man,  _ dammit!” Waver defiantly picks up this pace, and Melvin leans his head back, shuddering. There’s a stupid smile pulling at his cheeks, one Waver would want nothing more than to wipe off that smug, pasty little face. He shifts his weight, then grabs Melvin by his collar and tugs him in for a kiss.

That does a good job of keeping Melvin quiet. He bites on Melvin’s lip, lapping at it awkwardly, his one fist in the fabric of his shirt, the other working the both of them together. Melvin’s fingers brush his, then joins them, and Melvin’s a bit too gentle for Waver’s tastes. His palm is smooth, his fingers long and fine. He plays violin, right? Waver remembers that absent mindedly, nipping back at him every time Melvin tries to pull some weird stuff with his tongue.

“Mm...y-yeah, you’re right.” Melvin breathes. “You, ah, you really are a man, huh?”

His tone of voice is strangely validating in a way Waver can’t really explain. It sends a pulse of heat through him. Melvin tilts his head to pull on Waver’s ear with his teeth, and Waver shivers again. 

“Maybe— y-you, oh! Waver!”

Waver’s hand hasn’t stopped. If anything, he’s gotten a bit rougher, squeezing Melvin and himself just to hear Melvin whine. They move together, hands and hips. Their mess of tangled limbs, Melvin’s mouth on his neck, teeth and tongue and lips. Waver’s lips are pinned firmly shut, and he tries his damnedest not to let any noises escape as Melvin babbles words of encouragement and giggles as he humps him.

“Oh fuck, Waver! N-Not bad at all! Oh, shit! Fuck! W-Waver...Waver—!”

Neither of them last much longer.

It’s Waver who comes first, to his chagrin. “You aren’t just going to l-l- _ leave  _ me like this, are y—” And then Waver furiously jerks Melvin off in a rush to get him to shut up, earning a few surprised, confused noises before his cumshot meets Waver’s.

“But where’s the  _ romance!”  _ Melvin cries, trembling in the thighs. “I can’t believe you finished me off like that! How utterly newbish! You’re cruel to me, just whacking at me like some kind of— like some kind of…”

“Can’t think of anything?” Waver groans after Melvin trails off, before a spray of blood ends up all over his front.

_ “—MELVIN!”  _ Waver howls, scandalized. Melvin throws up again.

“Oof! That was a doozy. Fine now, thank you for asking, because you’re so concerned for my precious hea—” Waver smacks him in the face with his pillow. How is he going to get the blood out of his sweater?!

Instead of kicking him out, Waver flops back onto his mattress, devastated. Melvin clasps his hands together again.

“Is this an invitation?! Oh, Waver!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Melvin descends, wrapping him up in his arms.

“Wh— W-What’s this for?!”

“Look at you! You lost your virginity, Waver! And now I’m going to hold you, in our precious post-coitous afterglow.”

Waver has never heard  _ any  _ slew of words so offensive come out of Melvin’s mouth. He has half a mind to punch him, but he sighs instead.

This lasts until Melvin gets bored, steals a fresh pair of underwear, and leaves with a bright “Tata, old boy!” and a wink.

And Waver swears to himself he will never,  _ ever,  _ in a million years, touch Melvin Weins ever again. 

(He realizes too late that he never got the notes he needed.)


	7. between and under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night and a morning.

Waver sighs.

Ghostly white fingers skate down his stomach to the starts of his happy trail, down to the point of his body between where his legs begin. Right to the space before his cock, and they draw a little circle amidst the wiry hair, and when Waver’s eyes turn back to that handsome face, Melvin greets him with a chuckle.

They arrange themselves so that they’re level, Melvin lying on his side, Waver on his back. Their shoulders could easily brush, and sometimes they do as Melvin’s arm moves, his fingertips dragging back up Waver’s torso.

Waver is too old, perhaps, to feel so starry-eyed at this affection. He cranes his neck, and Melvin smiles brilliantly, catching Waver’s lips with his.

They kiss, which isn’t unheard of between them. There had been many times in the past few years Melvin and Waver kissed— in his office, in his home, quickly before Waver left for his car, and hastily moving away from each other as Reines barged into the room, her momentary confusion dissolving into a smug, knowing grin. Waver is too old, he decides, to be stumbling over himself, to have his index and thumb caught on Melvin’s sleeve, wishing it was on his thigh, or better yet, ducking between them to jerk him off, but too bashful to go farther. They had done worse, but of course, Waver is nothing if not stubbornly awful with intimacy. 

Gently, Waver nips, gently bites Melvin’s lip. He tugs gently, sucks gently, then releases, and swallows it all down. Indecision, for instance— Maybe a little bit of shame. The breaths and agreeable noises Melvin provides are nothing but motivation to move forward.

Waver doesn’t immediately pursue. He doesn’t shy away either, but his hand does shift to brush back Melvin’s hair from his temple, examining the shade of a near-blond silver like it’s something— well—

Precious? Melvin’s head dips closer, and they kiss again. Lips and tongue, faces fitting against each other in a familiar shape. Waver’s fingers brush Melvin’s neck.

If there is one thing Waver has come to appreciate since he had vowed to move on, it is the way Melvin feels in his hands. How he feels in Melvin’s. Something was missing in their previous trysts, but whatever it was seems to have sorted itself out. No promises of commitment— Nothing like that, of course. But they had become closer, in a way. And Waver had this closeness to count upon.

Or, Melvin to count on, perhaps. Waver shifts more onto his shoulder, twisting his lower body. Melvin’s palm is his reward, moving up the underside of his cock, his thumb pressing right under the head of it. Waver hisses a breath, which Melvin eagerly sucks out of him, and their tongues tangle as Waver gropes blindly for Melvin.

Waver has no lofty dreams of happiness. He doesn’t believe for a second that what awaits him at the end of the road is the married life he had imagined for himself in his childhood, nor was the pathetic hope of summoning Rider again still plaguing him. Is that sad to think? If this is loneliness, he figures it isn’t so bad.

Melvin takes him by the shoulder and pulls him closer. But  _ is  _ it loneliness? Is this resignation, deciding to give up on Rider and stop searching for something he knows is beyond him? Melvin is so warm, so close to him. He thinks—

Of course, maybe he’s been an idiot all along.

Melvin tugs on him the way Waver’s used to. And as always, Melvin is the unwitting victim to his bouts of melancholy. Unable to stand lying alone at night with himself and the nightmares, Melvin is like a refuge, and Waver remembers quite suddenly something he accused himself of before he took Gray on as an apprentice.

_ You love him, too, don’t you? _

It’s a jarring thought. He slides his leg between Melvin’s, clawing at his thighs with his free hand to get him closer. Their mouths haven’t parted in a while, and they continue to keep their hands busy until Waver pushes his hips close enough that they can take care of the business together.

Waver figures distantly that this is a good use of the space of his small bed. Melvin makes sweet sounds, moaning and gasping a few “Oh!”s and “Waver!”s whenever his mouth is free enough. They’re close enough that their chests touch, and Waver remembers, too, the time Melvin had told him (admittedly while stoned off his nuts) that he loved him. Of course, Melvin said that often, but it felt different in that moment. 

...It was wrong to act like the idea had never occurred to him. His hips jerk, his body twitching and trembling as he tries to hold himself in place. The surge of arousal beats out the indecision, and he ruts into Melvin’s fist.

“Close?” Melvin asks breathlessly. “Come on. Let’s see it.” Waver twists again, and Melvin nods his head against Waver’s neck, sucking on a patch of skin. Waver holds his breath, thinks of turning Melvin onto his back, of pinning him there and fucking his hand until he comes all over him—

But he doesn’t. He comes there, onto Melvin’s stomach, and Melvin trails after him, joining him after a moment or two.

“God,” Melvin groans. “It’s so hot when you start humping me like that. Like a little animal in heat.”

Waver immediately rolls onto his other side.

“What! Are you offended, now? Have I offended your sensibilities?” Waver glares over his shoulder. “Should I have said cute? Is cute more palatable for you?”

Melvin snakes his arms back around Waver’s middle, pulling him close against him. His bare chest, his open shirt. Waver sighs again, putting a hand over Melvin’s.

“You’re probably the least romantic person I know.” Waver grumbles.

“Oh, but you are cute. And I like it, you know.” Melvin kisses the nape of his neck. “I like seeing you get so excited that you can’t even talk.”

Waver tries to find something to yell at him for in that. He decides against it.

With the most clarity he’s had in these conversations with himself, he can finally admit he has some kinds of feelings for Melvin, beyond enjoying a friend with benefits. And maybe it’s always been like that between them.

Maybe Waver had been in love with Melvin for a long time.

“...Are you falling asleep?” Melvin whispers, righting Waver’s hair. “Poor dear. Don’t worry, I’ll hold you nice and tight! You won’t fall off the bed this time.”

Painfully aware of Melvin’s lower body against his ass, Waver tries to let himself drift off.

* * *

“Hm…? Good morning.” Melvin mumbles, dried blood caking the front of his body. Waver has no idea how it isn’t in his hair.

“Morning.” Waver looks Melvin over from beside the bed, having returned from getting himself a cup of water from the kitchen. 

Besides the shock of red down his chin and chest, Melvin has his legs splayed out, his morning wood laying against his lower stomach. Waver swallows, directing his attention away as Melvin stretches.

“You’re up early.” Melvin comments, groggily rising upright. “You don’t mind if I use your shower, do you? And— Oh!”

Waver is not as good at holding himself back as he thought.

The previous night’s realization still lingers. But more than that, he could barely sleep with Melvin’s naked body pressed up against his. He climbs onto him, thighs pressed against Melvin’s hipbones, and grinds against that budding erection.

“—W-Waver?!” Melvin reclines against his elbow, a hand clawing at Waver’s shoulder. “Well, aren’t you eager!” Waver knows what he wants, biting at Melvin’s ear and pinching his nipple, giving it a gentle tug. “Whoa! Aha, ha, a-at least let me clean up—“

“I have work in an hour.” Waver says through his teeth. “That can wait.”

“...Can’t argue with that! I’m yours—“ Is all he manages to get out before Waver sinks his teeth into his pale neck, leaving purple marks all over. If this is love, Waver thinks absently, what changes?

He’s so hungry for Melvin, it scares him a bit. He shoves Melvin’s shoulder into the mattress, minding the headboard, and shifts his weight to his knees. Making a mad grab for what’s already been sitting on his nightstand, Waver slaps some lube into his palm and ducks his hand between Melvin’s legs.

Waver’s hand starts at the tip of him, then slides down to the start of his taint, letting the skin shift in his hand and drag down with it.

“W-Waaaver, oh  _ fuck—“  _ Melvin’s hips ride along with him, pink splotches rising in his cheeks. “Oh, fuck me! Shit! W-What’s gotten into, oh, into you this, m-morning!” He laughs as Waver speeds up, giddy, his body moving in tides as it rocks against Waver’s palm. “Like it when you get demanding— Fuck! O-Oh, I’m, aha, I’m already, close—!”

Just as he tenses, Waver removes his hand, pushing it back farther until it reaches his tail end. Melvin groans in disappointment, his hips still moving fruitlessly against the air. Waver presses an ample amount of lube against him, then fumbles for the condom.

“Waver—“ Melvin whines. “Hey, finish me off—“

“Shut up.” Waver pushes his fingers into Melvin’s mouth. This earns a surprised grunt, but Melvin’s nothing if not enthusiastic, licking and sucking on Waver’s clean hand. Waver tears the condom open with his teeth, pulling it onto himself as best he can, jerking himself off a bit to help it roll on and to get himself properly hard.

Melvin’s eyes narrow, a smile quirking at his cheeks as Waver’s hand shifts from forcing its way into his mouth to simply holding his palm firmly over it. “Don’t piss me off, alright?” Is Waver’s explanation. “Let me get this over with.”

Melvin nods, then spreads himself a bit. Waver pretends not to swallow heavily, then angles his hips until their bodies brush, meeting just at that spot, and Waver guides himself in with his hand and a thrust.

Melvin shudders, trying to speak, but Waver presses his hand tighter against his face. Without further ado, he fucks him, every thrust punctuated with a smack of the skin.

“Just be quiet, alright? No banter.” Waver says stiffly, and Melvin nods again, Waver removing his hand, grabbing Melvin’s hips and tugging his body into his. This, of course, upsets Melvin’s balance a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his teeth digging into his lip in a horrible smirk as Waver continues to pull him in, over and over.

Despite his false confidence, Waver does not last long— He comes hard inside the condom while in deep, groaning, and Melvin sighs in appreciation, shaking like a leaf, his dick burning red and painfully hard.

Waver struggles to catch his breath as he pulls out. The condom goes into a tissue after it’s tied off, and Melvin lies stock still, if not for the tremors going through him.

“Not…not going to finish me off? Come on, please?” Melvin breathes.

“Do it yourself.” Waver grumbles, moving to haul himself off the bed.

“I want you to, Waver.”

The statement is made without any seduction or syrupy sweetness. He just sounds a little hopeful. It’s casual, and it all catches up with Waver suddenly.

...Was he just embarrassed? Was that why he was acting like this? This big show of force? Waver flushes a bit, leaning down to kiss him. Coppery spit, but Waver has learned to live with the taste of blood in the mornings.

“Oh? Has someone run out of steam?” Waver frowns at him. “You can be rough with me.” Melvin says, running his nails lightly against Waver’s arm. “It’s not so bad every now and then.”

He carefully grabs a fistful of Melvin’s hair, keeping their eyes locked. With a sharp tug, he takes the access to Melvin’s neck immediately, sucking on the already bruising skin. He holds up his end of the bargain, taking Melvin firmly in his hand and pulling hard on him. Just as before, down to his balls and back up, harder, faster, and Melvin arches into him, panting raggedly as he scratches deep lines into Waver’s shoulder blades. “Fuck,” He groans. “Fuck, fuck, oh  _ shit,  _ W-Waver, harder!” Waver complies, and without warning him— like he needs to in the first place— Melvin climaxes with a sob, rutting against Waver’s fist until he can’t anymore. Bleary-eyed and breathless, Melvin’s chest rises and falls, not even bothering to complain when Waver lifts off of him to put on some clothes.

Melvin lies there while he dresses. Waver goes about his short routine, dragging a brush through his hair briefly before stopping back over at the bed, moving those flaxen locks out of Melvin’s face.

“...Hey.”

“Hey!”

Melvin stretches lazily, smiling like a contented cat.

“Are you...you’re doing alright?”

“Mmhm. Perfectly fine! Just a bit tired. Give me a bit, and I’ll be on my feet, yeah?” He lifts his head, and Waver catches the meaning, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “Go get to the Clock Tower! I’ll meet you for lunch?”

“...Fine. See you then.” Waver gives him another kiss for good measure. “Use whatever you need here.”

He heads out for the day a bit baffled by himself. If he loves Melvin, is there really any grand difference in how they’ve been until now?

Nothing changes. But rather than that being painful, it’s a relief. It feels…

...It feels like he’s loved Melvin a long, long time, anyways. To deny that any longer was wrong.

But damn it all if whenever he realized how much someone meant to him, he didn’t immediately rough them up in some way, or curse them out. What an awful habit. He makes a mental note to spoil Melvin later. 


	8. bind/signed (a poem)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waver tries something old, and something new, with Melvin. Plus, a poem.

Waver is two knuckles deep into Melvin, heat building to an impossible fever in his stomach. The only thing stopping him from humping his hand until he comes is the effort he's putting into getting Melvin off, a breathless smile cracked across his regularly stony features. “Feeling good?” He asks, and for once, it isn’t a jab— The aphrodisiac he spread over Melvin’s more tender parts seems to be doing the trick. Melvin’s chest heaves, and he squirms, his feet planted firmly on the mattress, his hips straining for touch. Waver asks it because that expression is bereft of pretension, none of the usual smiles and playful crooning he hears from Melvin. Is it good, or is it bad?

“Fuck.” Is all he has to say, drawing it out like it’s a note in a song. His hands are bound behind his back, his eyes blindfolded.

Waver, as an alchemist, had certain hobbies. It had started as a mere curiosity, but now…

Well. It wasn’t easy for him to masturbate without an aphrodisiac of some kind involved. He made them himself, and Melvin made the mistake of poking too much fun at the concept. 

“Hey, h-hey, fuh, fuck me already—“ Melvin cringes, riding Waver’s hand in an effort to bring himself over the edge. “O-Or, at least finish— finish me off, a little cruel—“

Waver presses a kiss to his neck, then drags his lips down and rolls his tongue against Melvin’s nipple. He’s content to suck on it for a moment, Melvin inhaling sharply and letting out a soft “Oh!”

When he does finally put his hand back on Melvin’s dick, Melvin moans loud, arching over his bound wrists. “Fuck! Fuck! W-Waver, you— Oh! Fuck!”

From the tip of him to his taint. Waver has lost his shyness without those piercing blues on him, fingering him along with it. How long has he been teasing him? His palm presses gently as it circles Melvin’s balls. Melvin’s dick tenses in his grip, and as Melvin babbles and groans, he gets his well-earned orgasm with a sob. He comes in four spurts, the last being almost forced out of him by Waver’s hand. 

“Oh...Fuck.” He twitches every now and then with the aftershocks, his legs slack. His hips jerk when Waver slides his fingers out of him, hissing a breath.

“You were… holding out on me. All this time…” He drawls, a little delirious sounding. “Oh, bloody hell. Fucking…”

Waver catches Melvin’s mouth with his own. His lips are cold and wet, too much spit dribbling down their chins as Waver descends upon him like a hungry animal.

“Want you.” Waver whispers. He wishes he could scream that. His hands are all over, pulling their bodies flush against each other, rubbing himself against Melvin’s thigh. “M-Melvin, can I fuck you?”

“Goodness.” Melvin blindly reciprocates the kisses, smirking. “Well, I suppose I can be persuaded! But you, oh. You have to be careful, tough guy. I’m getting a little spent.”

Waver licks his lips. “I’ll be quick. Please?”

“Hmm…”

“Please, Melvin…” He says with a bit of urgency.

“Oh, alright, you horndog! But you owe me a favor. And maybe to let me have a go at you next time.”

“Deal. With pleasure.” Waver goes to reach for a condom.

“Don’t bother! I’ll take it raw.”

Waver, bowled over by hearing Melvin say that to him, takes a moment to ponder that, then spreads the slick aphrodisiac over himself.

“—Not going to take off my blindfold, eh?”

“Oh, hush. You like it.”

Melvin laughs brightly. Waver pushes back Melvin’s thighs against his stomach, pressing himself at the point where their bodies will meet. It’s easy enough to push inside him, and Melvin trembles, a breathy laugh crawling out of his throat.

“Ha! M-More sensitive than I thought I’d be—“

Waver starts moving, feeling the tingle of sensation creep up his body. A sweat rolls in, his heart leaping into his throat as their skin smacks together, til Melvin’s just starting to get hard again, bodies all technicolor and vibrant. He feels too good, like his stomach might bottom out, like he’ll cum straight away, but somehow he holds out, if only for a little longer. 

It feels like he’ll explode. Despite the experience he’s had up til now with Melvin, with his aphrodisiacs, with sex and masturbation, this is just too good. It still isn’t enough— he wants something more, beyond sex, but the sex is wonderful. The weight of himself, the warmth inside, the sheer feeling of the act. He wants to make it last longer, but Melvin tenses around him perfectly, his face flushed and body flushed and littered with lovebites and bruising kisses, a contrast of off-white cum in ribbons on his stomach. His arms at awkward angles as they strain at their wrists’ bindings— one of his ties— and his expression candid beneath the scarf he folded and tied around his head. Waver loves this view, loves fucking him, and he comes with a high whine, hips moving erratically, popping out of Melvin on accident, dragging skin against skin until he sags, exhausted. The base of his spine still tingles, still itches for more, but he’s tired. Melvin gasps for breath, his body adjusting as Waver leans away, and Waver watches as the semen starts to leak out of him shamelessly.

“Oh…” Melvin wiggles, a tremor going through his lower body. “T-The...wow. Hahaha…”

Waver looks him up and down with less than pure intentions.

“...Want me to jerk you off?” Waver asks.

“Muh...maybe? Shit. I don’t even know if I’ll come. Oh, hell. Waver.”

Waver runs his fingertips up Melvin’s ribcage.

“...Can you untie me?”

“—Right. Yeah. I can.” Waver busies himself with that, a shade flustered. Melvin flexes his hands, dabbing between his legs with a tissue.

“...Melvin?”

“Mm?”

“I…”

He trails off, knowing what he wanted to say.  _ I love this. I love being with you. Thank you.  _ So many hours of wasting time together, kissing and humping and fucking. What a pair they were. Waver offered absolutely nothing to the equation— no commitment, no money or status, no bargaining chip or reason for Melvin to end up tangled in the sheets with him, calling his name. Hell, it’s not like Waver was particularly good in bed. The only reason this happened so often was because…

White hands on the ends of red wrists extend towards him. Like one might draw the strings of a harp, Melvin tucks hair behind Waver’s ear. That in itself is perfection— the motion, the execution of it. This tension in Waver’s chest is unnatural. This pain. He longs for those hands, that touch, all so abruptly. It’s wrong to. His friend, perhaps his only one, and when he swore up and down he had decided what his feelings were.

“...Waver, come here.”

He leans into him. How easily does he sink into that embrace yet again? Familiar arms, familiar form, Melvin, who is the familiar constant in Waver’s life. A relationship that has outlived all others, even with his own parents. Waver shudders, and the feeling of heat lingers down below. The contradiction is painful, this grief and lust.

Melvin is not Rider. He could never replace him, either. Is that sad? Melvin will never evoke the same feeling Rider did, but does it have to be the same? However he justified it, the result was that he and Melvin got along way too well, no matter how he tried to deny or hide it.

...But what would he gain from admitting it? In the end, he’d just lose Melvin the same way.

It’s better for things to remain the way they are. That’s what Waver decides.

“...Can I use your shower?” Melvin asks, shifting. “I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure Mum will be after me if I’m not at dinner.”

Waver pulls back enough to look at him, frowning.

“...What, no good?” Melvin says with a bit of incredulity.

“...Do you...mind staying?” Waver asks gently. “If you need to go home, I won’t stop you, but…”

“Oh, is my dear friend lonely?” Melvin flattens Waver’s dark hair on his back. “...Ah, she’ll live! Let’s make it a boy’s night, then. But, that is— If you’ll give me a bit longer. I’m still shaking a bit.”

Waver runs his palm down Melvin’s side, pulling their bodies closer. Melvin is indeed trembling, and Waver’s eyebrows knit together.

“...Did I overdo it?”

“No, no! Not at all, old sport! I just need a little time to recoup. I’m not complaining at all. See, I love it when you take charge.”

Waver averts his gaze, embarrassed.

“But, really— I’d love to give you a good plow. Shame how long it’s been.”

“—Don’t say it so vulgarly…” Waver huffs, then rolls away, onto his back.

“You’re too cute. I’ll shower in a second, alright? Then you have me all to yourself.”

Waver almost comments upon that, but stops himself.  _ I’d like that.  _ Words he’s too afraid to say. He stays silent and nods. 

* * *

_ signed _

i never would want to wander,

want or ponder, even wonder

what a world could ever be

if instead you'd chosen me.

never would've felt the need

to beg or bribe or cry or plead

or even complain to my mother

how i'd want you as my lover.

but i believe i have a right

despite my sad romantic plight

to count myself your closest friend

and stay that way, but to what end?

if you would waste away alone,

i'd find myself, too, on my own—

so what would be the crime in there

to make us two a happy pair?

—but perhaps, that's what's wrong

makes me weak, and you as strong

to think of matters as if we could

move on, and in that, if we should.

what makes you strong, and makes me weak

is what defines us— what we seek.

you'd rather waste and keep your pride

than dream of life at another's side.

i’m a brute, or so i say.

i’ll see myself no other way.

if you seek higher things in life

i actively seek out the strife.

like pearls to swine, and insofar

you’re a romantic with no par. 

i don't blame you— really, do not.

this is just what fate has wrought.

nobody here should take the blame

(i say this with a hint of shame)

i promise i won't make a fuss

or blather on what more is just—

i simply wish you loved me too.

(sometimes i do.)

i'll keep my gaze away politely,

even when you shine so brightly

and if i'm blinded for a while

i'll disguise it with a smile.

and if my heart begins to soar

or beats with a deafening roar

i'll make sure to quiet the din.

as always, yours.

-melvin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn't know where to stick this poem so i just shoved it in at the end. i'm sorry the ending of this chapter kind of sucks, but i can't squeeze out anything more really.  
> YES i think waver is a pervert that uses alchemy for bad reasons. YES i have no rights. YES i am regularly hunted for sport. what of it


	9. vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waver admits his feelings before it's too late, for once.

Waver throbs, Melvin pressing the head of his cock against him. 

“Just shove it in.” 

Waver wipes his hair out of his face, his chest rising and falling as the anticipatory sweat rolls in. It’s not that he hates being fucked. It’s not that he prefers it, either. It’s more that when it comes to the two of them, their sexual habits are just too compatible.

Melvin grins, holding Waver by his hip, and eases himself inside.

The initial shock is good. Waver spreads himself with both hands, gasping as the whole of him glides in. He can feel heat pooling in his stomach, the lube dripping out of him, and yet it’s almost a numb feeling.

It’s when he starts moving that Waver twists. It feels good. Just that, the pulling back and pushing back in, and Melvin kisses Waver’s thigh, his leg hooked on his shoulder. Waver’s on his back, his hair splayed out every which way, and Melvin’s got him in his clutches, smiling like a cat with a mouse in its paws. “You like that?” He breathes, but it’s so sweet, tastes good on Waver’s tongue. “You’re so cute. You really are the cutest.”

Waver groans. “I— am not.”

He pumps himself a bit, but Melvin intercepts a stroke with his own hand. “Hey, who said you could touch yourself? —Don’t look so angry! I want to see if I can make you cum without it. Like in the pornos—“ Waver aims a kick at him. “Haha, come on, I want to see it. I want to see Lord El-Melloi II have a prostate orgasm or two. Is that so wrong?”

Waver clicks his tongue, “You’re a r-real pervert, you know—“ and arches as Melvin pinches both his nipples and tugs hard on them.

“Mm. Maybe I am. But you know, it’s your fault for being so nice to me. You enable me! You enabler.”

Melvin is as cheery as always, helping Waver’s leg aside and bending in, nipping and biting the tender skin of his throat.

“You know,” Melvin rolls their hips together. “How bad I want to fuck you all the time? It gets distracting. If I had it my way, I’d have you all to myself.”

“T-That’s too bad.” Waver mutters. “I have work. Classes...ah. To teach.”

“Oh, to be bent over your office desk! Taken right then and there! But there’s, mm, merit in making me wait all day and giving it to me hard when you get off work. Taking out all your stress on me.”

“Y-Yeah? Is that your thing?”

“Oh, I just think watching you lose your cool is too interesting.”

Waver wraps his arms around Melvin’s neck. Their bodies move in sync, hitting a rhythm that’s perfect for the two of them, and Waver twists again. Close, but not close enough.

“...Yeah? I— ah— You think I like being stuck at work all the time? I’d love to take a vacation week and just— Go at it.” Probably the most embarrassing admission of attraction Waver has ever mustered up the courage to say.

“Really?! Then let’s do it! You, me, your aphrodisiacs… Mmm, and we can… Oh. Shit, haha. Fuck. Waver, you’re so fucking good.” Melvin slows his pace, rocking into him carefully. “Ohhh, I’d do this all the time if I could.”

“You’ve got to have better suitors.”

“Yes, but they’re not Waver Velvet.”

Melvin pulls out for a moment, smacking his dick against Waver’s skin. “I think I, fuck. I think I need a second, actually.”

“Yeah? Do you want to switch to something else?”

“No, no. I love being inside you too much.”

Waver flushes. That’s stupid to get red in the face about, but here he is regardless.

They lie next to each other as Melvin gains his bearings. It starts with Melvin running his foot against Waver’s calf, and then they’re a tangle of limbs again, grasping for each other gently, mouths missing and catching and humping at each other’s thighs lazily. Melvin squeezes Waver’s ass, and whimpers, laughs, licks his lips.

“Hey, turn over.”

“Like this?” Waver gets on his side.

“No, like…” Melvin takes him by the shoulder and eases him down, stomach first. Waver hums, Melvin straddles him, then rests his chest to his back.

He finds his way back inside, and Waver turns his head. “Oh—“ The position isn’t bad. Melvin takes Waver’s hair and tosses it out of his way, sucking on the junction of Waver’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh, fuck.” Melvin’s hands roam, grabbing and caressing. “I— I’m, fuck. Shit. I’m getting there.”

“About time. Kiss me a little, would you?”

Waver sucks on Melvin’s tongue, and after a little longer, Melvin tenses up.

“Waver— Wa— Oh,  _ fuck me.” _

Melvin cums with a quiet little sob inside Waver, shaking. His breath ghosts over Waver’s hair, and he kisses the tender scar between his shoulder blades. That’s a shock of sensation through Waver’s body— painful, but not bad. His crest was there, once.

“Don’t— Don’t pull out yet.” Waver reaches back. “Leave it in for a second…”

“Oh? Yeah, you still want more, huh?” Melvin rolls into him a few more times. “Want me to touch you?”

“Just keep...mm. Keep going. You— You can pull out, just keep something in me.”

Melvin giggles, trembling as he keeps thrusting. His tongue runs against the crest scar again, and Waver arches, gasping. He has no idea if hickeys can be left on scars, but the sensation is almost unnatural, invasive and intense. There’s a finite point, the tip of a needle, or maybe the eye of it. The pressure in his stomach builds, and he jerks his hips a bit as he cums—

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Melvin finally lays his hands on him. “Hey, Waver—“

“Just do it—“ Waver moans loud as Melvin jerks him off. There's a bit of semen drooling from the head of his cock, and Waver feels a little floaty as Melvin tugs on him. It doesn’t take him long to properly cum, a high whine piercing the air.

The shame comes flooding in, but Melvin is too busy pulling out to notice Waver’s hatred of his natural voice. He rolls off of him, struggling to suck in enough air.

Waver draws his legs across the sheets, turning a little. His head feels light.

“...Take a vacation,” Melvin says. “And we can do whatever you want. Do whatever you want to me.”

“That sounds like a proposition, Melvin.”

“Mm?” Melvin blinks. “—Oh, well! Sorry, did that offend? Just some fun, you know?”

“It just sounded like you wanted something more than that.”

“Haha! Is that so? Well, you know me! Always looking for something interesting to do.” Melvin's eyes dart around.

“Melvin?”

“—Yes, Waver?”

“If you really want me all to yourself...” Waver steels himself for the incoming admission.

"Oh, I didn't mean it so—"

“You have me.”

“...Huh?”

“I’m yours, Melvin.”

The corniness is unbearable. Melvin’s sure to burst into a fit of laughter at any moment.

“H-Huh? You, haha, like, ahh, um—?”

He can understand, really.

Waver understands why Melvin is so nervous, and why he doesn’t believe him right away. He kicks himself for that. The fact he's taken advantage of his earnest feelings like this…

He feels like an idiot. He feels so many different ways, like each of his limbs are being tugged in different directions. His stomach churns, if only from the emotions currently taking turns beating him within an inch of consciousness with a metal bat.

“Take what you want from me, and I’ll take what I want of you. That's...not so hard to understand, is it?"

The silence that hangs between them is a little painful, if only for Waver feeling so deeply mortified by his own attempt to be smooth. Does he think a solid flirtation will earn him some forgiveness? He casts a glance over at Melvin, whose face is uncharacteristically candid— a little pinker than usual, even.

"...Are you being serious, Waver?"

"Would I joke about something like this?"

Melvin shakes his head.

Waver takes a shuddering breath, laying his hand close to Melvin's. It's the most, perhaps, that he can do, the most loudly he can scream it, the most direct he can possibly be. Pale fingers intertwine with his own, and Waver's heart is suddenly in his throat, beating so loud he figures Melvin could hear it.

"...Fine! That's fine by me. I've been yours for a long time, Waver."

Melvin kisses the heel of Waver's palm. This gesture has been repeated what feels like dozens, if not hundreds of times between them, but it's new, now. It means something different— or perhaps, it's meant the same thing all along, and only now is Waver recognizing it for what it is.

It's more than he deserves. It's more than he could ask for. His ribs are a web, catching his heart and strangling it. It feels like his body is all tense in its emotion, but it is a catharsis.

He refuses to cry. This is a happy thing, after all. He squeezes Melvin's hand, and that is all the words he can communicate, every feeling in his heart.  _ Thank you. Thank you for staying by my side. Thanks for being here for me. Thank you for everything. I love you. _

Still shivering with aftershocks, Waver drifts to sleep, hand in hand with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another, guys! even once i finish this story arc i'm gonna continue to throw anymore melwav porn i write in here, so. tae that! hi-yah!


	10. interlude: sea salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waver and Melvin do a cheeky mana transfer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know like at least one person who reads my fics really hates iswav so be warned waver having feelings for rider as well is heavily referenced in this one.  
> warning for some suicidal ideation

“It’s done.”

Waver sags against his bindings, his back blistering. The skin boils, pain bubbling where his magic crest was once embedded in his spirit core. In his body. He gasps for air, forgetting between breaths, hanging limp and then gulping it down when the lack of oxygen gives him a headache.

Was it a minute or an hour? A familiar hand taps the center of the white-hot mark, and sinks into it. It starts to hurt a little less, but it’s no different from having a metal rod shoved into your spine in how alien it feels. Like stakes driven under your nails, slowly and carefully, or like taking something up your—

“How are you feeling?” Melvin says, and his voice feels too far away despite knowing that he’s right behind Waver. The shackles locking Waver’s wrists come undone, and he rubs them, hunched over on the floor.

“Melvin…” Waver looks over his shoulder. Sure enough, Melvin is there, spreading a salve over Waver’s back. He can’t even feel it properly. He’s trembling like a wet kitten, eyes hollowly taking in the room around him. The patterned wallpaper, the tuning equipment. 

Waver is escorted to Melvin’s own room.

Normally, patients have separate quarters to recoup in, but Waver prefers this— lying half conscious, numb and simmering just under the surface, surrounded by that familiar smell, those familiar arms—

“Melvin.” It seems like seconds and days. He feels empty, so empty, missing whispers of memories and phantom touches, the family crest passed down only two generations. Such a personal, intimate thing, ripped from him entirely at that tiny girl’s behest. Reines El-Melloi Archisorte. Waver never met his grandmother, but his mother seems far away, now. His whole family’s legacy. His own dreams. 

Melvin is close. Waver clings onto him in a cold sweat, pooling in the sheets. “Melvin, I— Please, I…”

“Waver?”

Wavers hand drags down, uncontrolled, grabbing Melvin through his pants. Is it the want for mana, or something else? Waver struggles to breathe evenly, his body reaching a steady boil. He wants him, so desperately, to fill this aching void.

Melvin tuts. “You’re hardly in any state to—“

“Please.” Waver pulls on the front of Melvin’s dress shirt. “Why’d you take me here if you weren’t going to fuck me?” He says pathetically, resting his cheek on Melvin’s hip. Melvin wipes the hair out of Waver’s eyes, his own face unclear in Waver’s vision. Waver laments, for a moment, that Rider isn’t the man in front of him. Rider wouldn’t have hesitated to fuck him if he were begging like this. If only he could twist those features to be Rider’s.

...That’s so cruel to think.

Melvin’s finger gets caught on Waver’s lip, and Waver hungrily draws it in, rolling his tongue against pink knuckles, warm and hard, hard as ever, his hips rocking in arousal as Melvin shifts to cup his jaw. Waver flings Melvin’s belt aside, unbuttoning and unzipping, impatiently tugging him out of the fabric of his boxers to take his cock into his mouth. 

“Wah— Waver,” Melvin’s frame is tense, a knee up on the mattress, Waver gratefully sucking on his balls and dragging his mouth back up his shaft. The taste of sweat, of skin, the feeling of weight on his tongue. He grabs Melvin’s ass with both hands, taking him to the base— not an easy feat, but not hard either. He gags a bit, but he doesn’t mind. He likes the feeling of him, pulling back and swirling his tongue along the tip, jerking the rest of Melvin off. “O-Oh, fuck. Waver, e-ease up a bit—“

But he doesn't want to. Melvin wiggles himself by hand in Waver's mouth, and Waver lets him, no matter how humiliating it feels for someone to smack your face around with their cock. Back and forth, Waver's head moves without real technique, but the enthusiasm sure is there— maybe enthusiasm is the wrong word. He's slow, but earnest. Trying to acquaint every inch of Melvin with his mouth.

Languidly moving his tongue against the head of him, he works in earnest until Melvin cums, whimpering as Waver swallows around him. Speaking objectively, cum doesn't taste good, but Waver finds himself swallowing every time, anyway.

He hates that he genuinely feels better after that. He collapses against the down pillows, breaths slow and heavy. Melvin shivers, getting down low enough to kiss Waver’s forehead. Daring to cradle his cheek with any gentleness.

The look on his face is too telling. Maybe Melvin thinks Waver won’t understand in this state. Waver shuts his eyes, his body settling down— besides his erection, of course, but he’s too tired to think about that right now.

“...I’ll get you some water. We reapply the salve in a half hour, okay? Rest up for now.” Waver doesn’t need to be told twice.

He doesn’t quite fall asleep, but he does dream. 

Rider whips the reins, his sword held aloft, sailing through the air. Waver is left behind again, sobbing at the concrete. The Earth splits, and he descends into darkness. All his soldiers, all his weapons, his conquest and his legacy— All to dust and sand. Why was Waver always so useless? Weak, powerless, never thinking far enough ahead, starting five steps behind at a default?

That’s right. Waver is useless. Even when he thought he may reclaim this life Rider gave him, it just got snapped up by a rich mage family. He was to become Lord El-Melloi II. How could he do what he promised Rider this way? How was he supposed to survive?

His life is a hopeless spiral. A toilet being flushed. Waver floats aimlessly in a dead sea, knowing painfully that to drown himself wouldn't be worth the effort. Even the depths of the ocean would reject him. His tears are as salty as the water, the roaring waves that seemed to swallow the horizon, the endless Okeanos that didn't fucking exist.

Nobody knows better than him that the dead can only remain that way.

He'll trudge on til his life is unrecognizable. ‘Til he himself is nothing like the young man on his knees that day.

He wakes up with a jolt after what feels like longer than thirty minutes, and Melvin is helping him upright.

Waver holds onto his sleeve, wanting to squander this closeness he feels to the man, just like he always does. His familiar pattern is all he has. Maybe one day he'll be completely alone in a torrential downpour of dead loved ones without an umbrella. He'll be satisfied, then, in his abject misery.

Melvin doesn't disappear, though. He doesn't spontaneously die like Waver's brain tells him he will. That head of flaxen locks dips til his lips are level with Waver's ear.

“I feel like I owe you a handjob,” Melvin whispers, maids milling around and bringing in fresh clothes.

Waver whacks him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh...nakayoshi shinyuu...  
> i need to stop posting at 5 am.


End file.
